The Path of Consequence
by Bloody-Ban
Summary: Just how did Negaduck become the villain he is now? Hear it from the point of view of the man responsible. His father. COMPLETE.
1. The Beginning: Loss and Gain

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is merely a trial run for this fiction. The story is the life story of my original character who ties in with the Darkwing Duck realm. I know not many people take too kindly to fan character based fictions on this site so I figure I'd see how it flies. If people don't like it, I will take it down and only post the story on my own sites and friends' sites. If people DO like it, I'll keep updating here. Even though this is the life-story of my character, other DWD canon characters will make appearances as the story progresses.

Also, there are a few other fictions floating around on the internet (and even on this site) involving the origin of my character, who seems to be growing in popularity. THIS IS THE ONLY OFFICIAL. Since I am the original creator of the character, this is his official story.

DISCLAIMER: Jake Mallard and other characters mentioned in this chapter are © me. The Darkwing Duck realm and its canon characters are © Disney.

**CHAPTER 1**

Do you ever wonder how different everything could have been if it weren't for one downfall in your past? Do you ever regret making a decision that changed your entire life? I do. All of the time. Not a day goes by that I don't ask myself those questions and wonder.

My name is Jake. Jake Elias Mallard. And now, in the year 1992, I'm 55 years old and the Chief Agent of SHUSH in St. Canard. I look in the mirror every morning as I put on my tie for work and I notice how much I physically have not changed. I'm still 5' 10" with a strong build to defy my age and I possess piercing green eyes which are shadowed by bushy eyebrows that seem to be stuck in a permanent scowl. My hair is nothing more than the white plumage on top of my head. At a glance, my relationship to Drake Mallard is obvious. But on the inside, the changes I've gone through are inevitable.

Yes, now I'm living what seems to be a normal, luxurious life with a great career in St. Canard. My life has been anything but an ordinary one. I had the taste of a normal life at one time. But it didn't last and was quickly overcome with bitterness. It's a rather long story which would take decades to put in writing. This is an overview of my life; well, the important points of my life.

I probably should start more towards the beginning. I'm not from around here, I'm from very far away. Another dimension, in fact, which is now known as 'The Negaverse.' I was born and spent the first several years of my life in a city a few hours out of St. Canard called Aviamitty with my mother and my younger brother of three years, Nick. I was the more level-headed and 'down to Earth' of the two while my brother couldn't stay out of trouble. Our biological father, Robert Mallard, we never knew personally. From what we were told, he was a military colonel who perished in World War II when we were still infants. We heard stories of how he was a hero and that is how we envisioned him.

Our mother re-married a few years later to a man named Roger Featherston. It didn't last. When I was nine, he was arrested and sentenced to 25 years in prison. I won't go into detail on the charges for the sake of my persona. My mother filed for divorce and moved to St. Canard with my brother and I immediately to escape the experience and leave it behind us.

The next ten years my brother and I got to live 'normally.' We went to school, we had friends, and got to be kids. Even throughout school and up to graduation, I was the more studious of the pair while Nick was the energetic troublemaker. After high school, I left home for St. Canard to attend college, majoring in business management. Nick stayed in Aviamitty with our mother while he attempted to figure out what he wanted to do with his future.

It was during my junior year of college that I met the woman who would become my future wife. Abigail Cleeson. She was a beautiful white mallard with long, curly blonde hair and deep, dark blue eyes. I knew the moment that I saw her walk into the classroom on the first day of class, I wanted her to be mine. And I would have her. Eventually.

Several weeks of subtly making my presence known to her went by before we had our first personal conversation. I can remember the day clearly. Midterms were one week away and I was in the campus library studying. I was hunched over a legal pad, organizing my notes when a pair of slender hands set down a pile of textbooks on the table beside me. I looked up and was greeted with those blue eyes. My breath was caught in my throat and I immediately began to feel dizzy from the lack of air in my lungs.

"Jake? Is it alright if I sit here?"

Her angelic voice snapped me out of my mesmerized stupor. I can only imagine how ridiculous I looked. Finally, I managed to find my voice.

"Oh, Abby! Uh, yes, of course," I answered, clearly flustered as I attempted to gather my books to one side of the table and cleared a space for her. She smiled and sat down in the chair beside me, smoothing her calf-length skirt. I watched her curiously out of the corner of my eye as she picked up one of her textbooks and opened it to a marked page.

"I hope you don't mind. You're definitely one of the smartest students in the class and I don't doubt you could answer any questions I may have about this stuff," Abby explained and looked up at me with a motion toward the subject books.

I gave a light chuckle in reply, which unfortunately sounded more like squeaky guffaw. Quickly, I cleared my throat and covered, "It's no problem. No problem at all."

Abby returned her gaze to her book. I picked up my own textbook and returned my inconspicuous gaze to her. Every feature on her face, every delicate feather, the perfect curls of blonde hair. _She_ was perfect. I etched an immortal picture of her beauty in my mind.

"Jake?"

Once again, her voice introduced me to reality and I immediately shifted my eyes forward. "Yes?"

"Is that book very helpful?" Abby asked without looking at me.

I was perplexed by her sudden question but I spat out an answer without a second thought. "Oh, yeah. It's has a really good review chapter."

"Uh huh? Think it would be more helpful if you were reading it right-side up?" she asked as a sly smile played on the corner of her bill. While humiliation made it's presence known by the red color rising to my face, I fumbled to turn the book right-side up as suavely as I could.

The friendship started from that day in the library. Back in those days, relationships weren't rushed. We began as friends and grew tighter over the months. It wasn't until the end of the academic year that things really progressed when I received some unfortunate news from home.

The two of us had plans that evening. We were going to meet up with a few other classmates to go dancing as soon as Abby came to my dorm room. But when I opened the door, she wasn't greeted with our ceremonious embrace. Instead, my face was distraught and a letter was clutched in my right hand.

Abby immediately noticed and frowned in concern. "Jake? What is it?"

"Abby, come in. I'll be ready to go in just a minute," I answered, anxious to dismiss the subject. I'm not the type to openly show vulnerability. To me, it meant I was weak. And I wasn't about to show that in front of the woman I had strong feelings towards. I turned my back to her and crossed the room to fetch my coat and set the letter down on the table.

But Abby wasn't easily fooled. She was an intelligent young woman and I should have known better than to think she would let the subject slide past. She had followed me across the room and placed a hand on my shoulder for my attention. I turned around and looked down into her concerned eyes.

"Jake, what's wrong? What has happened?" She demanded gently.

I looked back towards the letter on the table and picked it up to explain. "I got a letter from home. It's about my brother. He…" I stopped. Maybe for the moment I believed that if I didn't say it, it wouldn't be true. "He was killed two days ago. Apparently he made enemies with the wrong people and he was run off of the road."

Her hand came up to her bill and she shook her head in disbelief. "Oh, Jake. I'm so sorry. Are you going to be alright? Is there anything I can do?"

"I'll be alright. I'm going to have to visit home this weekend for the funeral but I'll be fine." I looked at Abby apologetically and heaved my shoulders. "I'm sorry, Abby. I suddenly don't feel up to going out tonight. Tell everyone I'm sorry I didn't show."

To my surprise, she shook her head defiantly. "If you're staying in tonight, then I am, too. That is, if you don't mind the company."

"Are you sure that would be such a good idea?" I ventured hesitantly. And young man and woman who were not married and sharing an evening in the same room was frowned upon in those years.

Abby reached down and took one of my hands in both of hers. She stared genuinely up at me and spoke softly. "I'd worry about you, Jake. Please don't let yourself sit in here alone tonight."

How could I say no to her? Granted that while I hate being pitied, I really didn't want to spend the evening alone. Not after receiving the unfortunate news of my brother. And Abby genuinely cared for my well-being. She would be one of the very few in my life who would. I enjoyed her company and that night would be no exception.

"I'd like that," I conceded and managed a slight smile. Abby returned her warm smile before she turned and approached the door to the room. I watched as she stepped gracefully, making it appear as if her feet didn't even touch the floor. She was like an angel. An angel whose long, blonde locks flowed over her slender shoulders as she gently closed the door to my dorm room.

We were alone. Just the two of us in my dorm room. When she turned towards me again, her brows furrowed. "Jake, are you sure you're alright? You look a bit flushed."

She was right. I could feel the feathers on the back of my neck becoming damp with sweat. But I tried to remain calm and nodded. "I'm fine. I'm just working away the shock, I suppose."

"Just sit down. I'll get you a glass of water," Abby insisted and pointed to the second-hand couch against the wall. I waited until she rounded the corner into the small kitchen area before collapsing onto the couch with a heavy exhale. My usual calm, cool demeanor had become non-existent at that point. I tugged at the collar of my sweater to air out my neck and return the pure white color to my face. The evening had taken a turn in a direction I was not prepared for and I didn't have a map. I found myself resting my elbows on my knees and leaning forward with my face in my hands to regain my breath.

A moment later, Abby returned with a glass of ice water in her hand. I lifted my head and brought my hands down from my face as she stopped in front of me.

"Here, drink this," She demanded and held the glass to me.

I nodded and silently reached for the glass. In wrapping my hand around it, my fingers slid over her own. The only reaction from her was a smile before she let go of the glass and turned back around. While I slowly drank, I watched as Abby wandered about my room, which was anything but tidy. She began to scoop up clothes, papers, notebooks, and various other items off of the floor.

Now I was beginning to feel guilt. The woman I was experiencing strong feelings for was not only spending the evening with me, but now she was cleaning up my messy room. And no matter how much I tried, I couldn't keep my eyes off of her.

It was too much for me to experience at one time. I suddenly stood up from the couch and swiftly made my way to the window. My hands came down on the sill and I leaned forward with my head lowered.

I must had been breathing heavily because it caught Abby's attention. She stood upright and looked in my direction. "Jake?"

When she got no response, she set all of the junk in her arms down on the table and approached me. I involuntarily flinched when I felt her place her hands soothingly on my back. My head turned to meet her gaze and we stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like years.

"Jake, there's something else on your mind," Abby deduced. Once again, a smart girl. She had a way of reading my mind.

"No, I'm just….I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling like myself tonight," I admitted half-truthfully. The nervousness in my voice was obvious and Abby picked up on it immediately.

"Oh, I see," she answered softly. Now she appeared to be nervous as she rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. "Well, perhaps I should go so you can have some time to…."

Abby began to turn and motion to the door. Before she could finish her sentence, I reached out to grab her by the wrist and pulled her back around to face me. She stared at me in shock for only a few seconds before our bills were brought together. Her hands were gently pressed against my chest while I held her shoulders as we kissed passionately. It was ecstasy that I had never experienced before and I didn't want it to end. But I eventually began to notice my shortness of breath and we slowly parted.

My chest was heaving with each breath I took. Abby stared up at me blankly, but slowly she smiled brightly.

"Abigail, I'm…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…." I began to apologize. I was silenced when her index finger came up to my bill, like a mother hushing her child.

"Shhh. Jake, please don't apologize for that. If you feel like you need to apologize for something, say you're sorry for making me wait this long," Abby said coyly as she brought her hand up to gently stroke my cheek.

I tilted my head into her hand; her gentle, soothing touch. It wasn't until that moment that I realized just how much I needed someone important in my life, especially after just losing a part of my family. Her hand gently moved my head so that we were gazing at one another again.

"I'm really sorry about your brother, Jake. Truly, I am. I understand you're suffering a loss but I'd really like to do what I can for you. I want to be here for you," she confessed sincerely.

That was all I needed to hear. I nodded as my confidence was restored and pulled her into a gentle embrace. Abby's soothing hands rubbing my back made me forget how nervous I had been moments earlier. It wasn't long before I brought my bill to hers for another kiss, just as passionate as the last. Only this time my hands slowly slid down the delicate curves of her body and came to rest on her hips. Her hands curiously made their way down my chest to the bottom of my sweater. I felt her warm fingers as her hands slipped underneath my sweater and run through the feathers on my chest, the whole time our bills never parting.

I still remember that night as the best I'd ever experienced. The next morning I woke up to a warm body with welcoming blue eyes beside me. I wanted that to last forever.

Unfortunately, my life would turn out to be a rather lonely one, all at my own fault. This was only the beginning.


	2. To Have and To Hold

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to those who reviewed. I hope you all enjoy chapter two as well. I've fixed some things in chapter one, such as spelling and grammar errors and adjusted a couple of dates. This chapter and the next one or two chapters will be a bit dull, so I apologize. But they have to happen.

DISCLAIMER: All characters mentioned in this chapter are © me. The Darkwing Duck realm is © Disney.

**CHAPTER 2**

That was how the core of my life was started. Over the next year, Abigail Cleeson and Jake Mallard became known as being inseparable. Even though she was pursuing a major in social welfare, Abby became actively involved with the campus theatre during our senior year. She had an extraordinary voice and began to show it off to everyone. I'd go to see every performance to hear her angelic voice. She loved to sing and I loved to listen.

Graduation came and I passed in the top five percent of our class. The position landed me an entrepreneurship with a local corporation to get me started in the world of business. Abby and I moved into an apartment together while we struggled to establish our careers. She managed to find a job working as a child protective service agent in St. Canard while I continued my entrepreneurship over the next year. That was all the time I needed to begin planning out one of my biggest accomplishments.

It was now the early 60's and the country's military forces were becoming more technologically advanced. I figured out a way to start my own company to manufacture electronics and weaponry to the military and Department of Homeland Security. Many sleepless nights and stressful days were spent applying everything I'd learned in college to concocting the perfect ideas for two years. I went through the hassle and headache of acquiring loans to get everything I needed. And although it was off to a shaky start, I did it.

Mallard Enterprises was born, specializing in manufacturing weapons and electronics to the government. Blood, sweat, and tears went into one of the biggest achievements of my life. And another was soon to follow.

She stood by my side the whole time. During those hard years, Abby never once left me. Her encouragement was what ultimately pushed me to the end. She was always there when I needed a shoulder to lean on, or to cover me with a blanket when I would pass out on my desk from exhaustion. I never would have made it without her and I knew I needed her to always be there for me.

At only twenty-four years old, I was the youngest CEO in St. Canard. Abby and I went out for dinner at a prestigious restaurant to celebrate my success. Or so she believed. That was only half of the evening's purpose.

"Jake, this place is wonderful," Abby said and took a sip from her champagne glass. She was wearing a stunning off-the-shoulder green dress that flowed nicely around her knees. The gold cross necklace she wore around her gracious neck sparkled in the light of the chandeliers hanging overhead. Abby was a Christian and she always wore that necklace. A small orchestra in the far corner played classical music in the background. The Canard Riviera was a classy place which I was proud to be able to afford.

"A wonderful place to be seen in with a wonderful person," I added with a sly smile. She returned the glance and we lifted our glasses to a toast.

Abby set her glass down on the table and smiled widely at me from across the table. "Jake, I'm so proud of you. Where most people would have given up, you kept going and succeeded."

"Most people don't possess my charm, wit, and good looks," I pointed out smugly. She playfully raised an eyebrow at me before letting out a light laugh. "But in all honesty, I couldn't have done it without you, Abby. You constantly pushed and pushed and continued to be a real nag."

My last statement received another laugh from her side of the table before I continued. "You were the reason I kept going and achieved my goal. You were there when I needed encouragement. My success is credited to you. And there's only one way I can repay you for all you've done for me."

I stood up from my chair and stepped around the table towards her. I could clearly see Abby's eyes begin to widen while I reached inside the jacket of my Armani suit and withdrew a small, black box. Her hand came up to her bill in shock as I got down on my knee and stared hopefully up into her wide eyes which began to sparkle.

"Abigail Marie Cleeson," I opened the little box to reveal a silver ring that held sparkling 24-karat diamond. "Will you marry me?"

She must had been holding her breath the entire time because she had to shakily inhale a deep breath that was caught with a choke of joy. Tears bordering her eyes glimmered as she lowered her hand from her bill and nodded with an excited smile.

"Yes, Jake. Of course I will!" Abby answered, her voice still partly caught in her throat. I removed the ring from its box and gently took her hand to slide it onto her ring finger. Before I could get back to my feet, he lunged out of her chair and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. I faintly remember hearing clapping in the background from a few curious witnesses.

Finally, I pulled myself to my knees and sat Abby back down in her seat before returning to my own. After I sat down, she lifted her glass once more with a radiant smile.

"To happiness. I know we'll both be happy together, Jake," she toasted. I nodded and lifted my glass to her.

The wedding was set for September; Abby loved the Fall season. During the six months until then, I bought a house in an upper-class neighborhood in the suburbs of St. Canard which we moved into immediately. While I was busy with work, Abby was in charge of planning the wedding. I gave her free reign to have it the way she wanted; what did I know about weddings, anyway?

The time flew by fast--_very_ fast. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of an altar in an outdoor set-up with an audience of a few hundred people. Most of the guests were employees and associates from my corporation and many of the family members who attended were from Abby's side of the family.

She was stunning. Absolutely stunning. I could feel my knees weaken while she gracefully glided down the isle towards me. She smiled radiantly at me from beneath her veil. I must have been losing my balance because I felt my Best Man's hand on my shoulder to steady me.

"Do you, Abigail Cleeson, take Jake to be your lawful wedded husband? To honor him, cherish him, and protect him? To have and to hold until death do you part?" the minister recited.

"I do," Abby answered as our eyes locked.

"And do you, Jake Mallard, take Abigail to be your lawful wedded wife? To honor her, cherish her, and protect her? To have and to hold until death do you part?"

I nodded, holding her hands gently in mine. "I do."

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife," the minister announced after I slipped the wedding band onto her finger. "You may now kiss the bride."

Abby tilted her head towards me and our bills were pressed together. Friends and family erupted into applause and cheers behind us. When we parted, I smiled and gently wiped away the tear of joy that slid down her cheek before we swiftly made our way back down the isle.

The reception was held in the Mallard Enterprises Ballroom after the ceremony that night. I found it difficult to hold a conversation with all of the people congratulating me. My eyes kept drifting back to my new bride. Her delightful laugh and joyous smile lit up the whole room and made me smile. It seemed like nothing could break the spell she had on me, until….

"There will be plenty of time for that later, young man," a familiar, feminine voice quipped from behind me. I turned around to see a woman in her late 40s with brown wavy hair and green eyes who was barely shorter than I, grinning at me.

I smiled widely and wrapped my arms tightly around her. "Hi, Mom."

My mother, Jeannine, hugged me tightly before pushing me back to look up at me. "I'm so glad you found her, Jake. You deserve to be happy and I know she will do that for you. I wish your brother could be here for this; he'd be so happy for you."

I tried not to frown. Of all the days to be reminded of Nick's murder, my wedding day was not ideal. But I nodded in reply, "I know. I wish he were here, too."

My mother smiled at me, then she suddenly erupted into a fit of violent coughs. Her hand came up to cover her bill and I tilted my head in concern. I placed me hand on her back and handed her a glass of water from a table. "Mom, are you alright?"

She nodded and took a few swallows of water before setting the glass down. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm just getting over a virus I contracted last week."

"A virus?" I asked skeptically. My mother wasn't one to get sick. She had always been very healthy and health-conscious.

But she smiled and nodded insistently. "Jake, I'm fine. I promise."

Another woman, whom I recognized, approached me from behind my mother. Abigail's mother, Claire. My mother noticed and gave me a nod before kissing me on the side of my bill and retreating to socialize with the other guests.

Claire, being rather short, smiled widely up at me before embracing me. "I know you're going to keep my daughter very happy, Jake."

"You should expect nothing less from me, Claire. I wouldn't dream of doing anything else," I ensured with a wink.

"Just take care of her. I don't doubt that you will," she added hopefully.

I nodded sincerely, realizing the seriousness in her voice. "I will. I promise you that."

A hand closed gently over my shoulder. When I turned around, I smiled widely down at Abby. She took one of my hands in hers and grinned anxiously. "I know I've talked to everyone here at least twice. You and I have barely spoken two sentences to one another. Are you ready to go and have some…private time?"

She was right. We had both been bombarded with guests and family all evening. I nodded and we quickly made our way towards the door before we could be stopped by anyone else who thought they needed to congratulate us for the third time.

Our first night together as mallard and wife was spent in our own home. Took the liberty of accessorizing the master bedroom with candles and roses along with other things I knew Abby enjoyed. A bottle of expensive wine with two tall glasses waited on the nightstand.

I pushed the front door of the house open with my foot and staggered inside with Abby in my arms. The train of her gown flowed up over my arms and made it difficult to see where I was going. Finally, I set her down on her own feet on the threshold.

"I thought we would never escape," Abby laughed as she smoothed out her gown and I closed the front door.

"No kidding," I agreed and turned around to face her. I smiled slyly and sauntered over to her, sliding my arms around her tiny waist. "Now I can finally have you all to myself."

Abby chuckled lightly and began planting kisses on my bill. I responded by kissing her cheek and moving down to her neck.

She smirked and tilted her head back. "I need to get out of this dress."

"I think I could help you with that," I suggested between the kisses I continued to give her.

Abby laughed and playfully shoved my face away. She lifted up the train of her dress and quickly scampered up the stairs towards the master bedroom, pausing to smile coyly over her shoulder at me. I caught on to her game and quickly pursued her up the stairs and into the bedroom.

When I slid into the doorway, I watched her lean over to remove her shoed and toss them aside. She turned around and beckoned me with her finger. I strutted to her and she began to slowly remove my tie and unbutton the jacket of my tuxedo. While she was trying to undress me, I placed my hand gently under her bill and lifted her face to mine. She tilted her head curiously as I stared thoughtfully into her eyes.

"Jake? What is it?"

I shook my head. "I'm just trying to figure something out."

"Oh? Figure what out?" Abby asked.

"What I did to deserve you."

Her bill went agape before she smiled softly. I could see tears forming in her eyes. She lifted her hand to my face and gently stroked my cheek. "You're a wonderful man, Jake. I have something magnificent that no other woman can I have. I have the honor of being Mrs. Jake Mallard. I wouldn't dream of being anywhere else or with anyone else. We're together, 'until death do us part.'"

I took her hand that was on my cheek and clutched it tightly in my own. And I nodded, agreeing with her quotation before. My head lowered and we met in a passionate kiss. Her hands returned to their work of removing my jacket and unbuttoning my shirt. My own hands moved to her back to search for the zipper on her gown.

"_Until death do us part…"_


	3. The Coming of a Villain

AUTHORS NOTE: Thank you to all who left reviews; I appreciate every one of them. This chapter is a bit longer than the rest. Hold on tight, it's an emotional roller coaster. Just be patient for a couple more chapters and things will begin getting intense, I promise. Thanks for reading!

DISCLAIMER: Jake and Abigail Mallard are copyright me. Drake Mallard is © Disney. All Darkwing Duck characters and the Darkwing Duck universe is © Disney. Any other characters mentioned are copyright me.

**CHAPTER 3**

Marriage. Some people would consider it a waste of time while others look upon it as a blessing. I preferred to consider it the latter. Abigail was the backbone of my success. I needed her in my life and now I was honored to call her my wife: Mrs. Jake Mallard.

But shortly after being wed, I felt guilty. I couldn't take her on a honeymoon like most newlywed couples. Financially, I could afford it. However, time was another matter that I just couldn't afford. My corporation took away a lot of my time I wish I could have spent with Abby. I had to oversee matters and tend to business there before I could 'tend to business' at home. But I promised her that the first chance I got at some time off, we would take our honeymoon. I rarely got a weekend off, let alone a full week to vacation in the Bahamas.

Abby understood and sympathized with my busy schedule. Perhaps it was a good thing for our relationship that we were away from one another often; it made us take full advantage and appreciate the time we DID have together. But I was determined to keep my promise to her. After the holiday season, we would take that trip.

Christmas came and went. And I actually had everything planned to surprise Abigail with the dream honeymoon of a lifetime. We were scheduled for a week long escape towards the middle of February; just in time for Valentine's Day. However, we ended up forfeiting our vacation due to a certain 'unexpected event'.

A few weeks prior to our vacation date, Abby fell ill. It didn't appear to be serious. She complained about being dizzy on occasion and found herself with her head hovering face-down over the toilet a few times a day. We just assumed it was a winter flu bug going around. But after a full week went by with no improvement, I insisted that she go to the doctor.

This is something that I _must _clarify. Abigail is very stubborn. That's just one of the characteristics I adored about her. I must have argued all evening before she finally consented to see a doctor the following day. However, she insisted on driving herself while I went to work. Reluctantly, I agreed.

The next day, I went to Mallard Enterprises, just like any other day. Normally, I'm constantly on the move throughout the corporate building to make sure things are being done right to my satisfactory, that business deals are closed appropriately, and that potential new clients leave meetings as _new _clients. I never have time to think about anything else. But on that day, Abby was constantly in the back of my mind. I couldn't stop wondering if something was seriously wrong. Wondering what the doctor would say.

I retreated to my office after a board meeting with some of my executives. It was always an awkward situation that took some time to get used to--most of my executives were older than I. Recently, I had just turned twenty-five and my age was always an intimidating factor to my employees.

My office was elaborate; large, neat, and professional with a great view of St. Canard. One of my flaws I developed during my success was becoming a slave to culture and comfort. I moved toward the black leather chair behind the large cherry wood desk and sat down. The questions about Abby kept rushing through my mind. With a sigh, I spun my chair around to gaze out of my large office window to look out at the city. The buzzing from the intercom on my desk snapped me out of my worrisome trance.

"Mr. Mallard, your wife is here," came the voice of my assistant, Julia. My eyes widened and I quickly spun my chair back around--a little too fast. I nearly flew from the chair before I hastily pressed the button on the intercom.

"Yeah, send her in, Julia," I answered and calmly situated myself. Seconds later, the door to my office opened and Abby stepped inside. She turned around to securely close the door behind her before facing me.

Her face was unreadable, which instantly made me nervous. I stood up from behind my desk and crossed the room towards her. "Abby? What is it? Is something wrong? What did the doctor say?"

I began firing off questions without giving her the chance to answer. She brought her hand up and gently closed it around my bill to silence me. When I looked down at her for an explanation, she gave me a slight smile.

"Jake, everything is going to be alright," Abby answered softly before releasing my bill.

But that still didn't answer my questions. "What do you mean? Is something wrong?"

"No, no! Nothing's wrong!" she insisted with a light laugh. "At least nothing that won't last more than nine month."

I was puzzled by her statement and I made sure she knew that by the expression I gave her. After all, I am only male. Sensing my confusion, she reached out and gently took one of my hands in both of hers. She stared up at me with a radiant smile.

"Jake, I'm pregnant."

The world must have started spinning faster. Or I had stopped breathing. Either way, now_ I _was the one feeling dizzy. I blinked my eyes and tried to gather the right words to respond.

"A-Are you sure?"

Those weren't the right words. But it was the only thing I managed to blurt out. Abby raised an eyebrow and tilted her head.

"Of course I'm sure, Jake. The illnesses I've been experiencing are all symptoms of the first trimester of pregnancy. The doctor confirmed it," she slowly explained to me so that I would understand every word. Abby smiled widely again as she took my hand and placed it gently over her stomach. "We're going to have a baby."

While she was excited of this news, I was still in shock. Having children was a subject we had never thoroughly discussed. We both agreed that we wanted to start a family together, but it was the _when_ we had never agreed upon. Now someone else was deciding for us.

But there was something else bothering me about the idea of having a child. I slowly slipped my hand out of her grasp and wandered absently over to the leather couch sitting against the wall. Abby watched, puzzled, as I slumped down on the couch and stared blankly down at the floor between my feet.

"Jake?" she softly called to me. When she got no answer, she followed and sat down on the couch beside me. Her arm came to rest around my shoulders as she tried to look into my eyes. "Jake, please tell me what's wrong. Do you…not want to have this child? Are you not ready?"

I insistently shook my head. I did not want her to think that was the reason for my reaction to her carrying my child. "No, Abby. That's not it at all," I admitted and looked up to face her. "I'm just a bit worried."

Abby's brow furrowed in concern at my remark. She made a common assumption and ran her hand comfortingly along my back. "Jake, there's nothing to be worried about. As long as I take care of myself, the baby will be fine and everything will--"

"That's not what I'm worried about," I interrupted and stared deeply into her eyes. "I'm worried about ME."

She looked at me, clearly confused. "I don't understand."

I heaved my shoulders before giving her my painful explanation. "I'm worried, Abby. I don't know if I can be a good father."

"Jake, what would make you say such a thing?" Abby asked, sounding shocked and hurt.

"Because I don't know what a good father is like," I confessed. In all of our years together I had never told her the truth about my stepfather. She had always believed the story I had told her about him leaving us, which was more of a half-truth. I looked away from her and returned my gaze to the floor. "Abby, my stepfather never ran out on us like you thought. He was sent to prison for twenty-five years because he was anything but a father to me."

There was an awkward silence. But I knew Abby was debating with herself as to whether or not she should ask the burning question. Her hand clamped sincerely over my shoulder and I turned to look into her concerned eyes.

"Jake, what did he do to you?"

Pain instantly washed over my face as the memories returned to me. The anger and pain had built up over the years since that time when I was a small child. Even after my stepfather was taken away to prison, the ordeal was never brought up. I had no one to talk to about what had happened. And now, Abby was here to listen. But I couldn't look at her. I sharply turned my glance away again.

"He did things that no one should do to a child, no matter how sick-minded they are," I began. My voice was beginning to tremble and I struggled to keep it calm. And I kept hoping that no one would come to my office and see me in the state I was in. "You hear about abusive fathers who hit and beat their children until they're broken both physically and mentally. It was nothing like that for my brother and I. It started when we were eight. We didn't have much of anything after our real father died. And even back then I wanted to be somebody, just like he had been. Since we were young, our stepfather had a way of manipulating us. He was a sick man and he took advantage of two young boys who didn't know any better."

My voice got caught in my throat and my hands began to tremble. Re-runs of exactly what happened played back in my mind. When I brought myself to speak again, my voice broke. "He said he'd give us money. And he'd touch us. I bought things with that money. And I let him touch me…." I couldn't hold it in any longer. I choked on a sharp gasp before I began to sob for the first time in over fifteen years. "He touched me and I sold myself…"

"Oh, God…." Abby whispered in disbelief. She shook her head, not wanting to believe my confession. I hunched over my knees and brought my hands to my face as the many years of pain escaped with each sob.

Abby's arms wrapped around my shoulders and she pulled me to her in a comforting embrace. Her chin rested on my head and she soothingly tried to calm me. It wasn't long before her own tears streaked down her cheeks. I felt them drop onto the feathers of my head.

"Jake, I'm so sorry. What about your mother?" she asked, astonished at the idea that perhaps my mother had known the whole time.

"She didn't know," I explained when I managed to somewhat calm my voice. "It went on for nearly a year before anybody found out! A whole year before I finally got the courage to tell someone who would actually believe me! He was arrested and sentenced shortly after. That was when we moved to St. Canard. He was the only father I knew."

I sat up and wiped my face, feeling ashamed of my emotional remembrance. Abby's hand slid into my lap to take my other hand firmly in hers. When I turned to face her, her eyes bore into mine.

"Jake, listen to me. What he did to you and your brother was horrible. But you're NOT him. Whether he was your biological father or not, I know you wouldn't want what he did to you to happen to anyone else. He abandoned you and his chance to be a father to you. I know the kind of mallard you are and I know you wouldn't even so much as lift a hand to our child or abandon your role as a good father. You know how much it hurts. And you're better than that."

"You sound so sure of that," I pointed out skeptically.

Gently, her hand caressed my cheek. "That's because I am. I _am_ sure of that."

Her words pierced me. Much of what she said I knew was true. I just needed someone else to confirm it for me. I didn't want to be anything like my stepfather. My hatred for him was so intense that I wouldn't let that happen. This was my chance to be what he never was and to give my own child what I never had.

Finally, I managed a weak smile. I took her slender hand in mine and simply nodded in reply. She beamed and leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on my cheek.

"You're going to be a wonderful father. I know it. You already show so much concern for this child," Abby reassured as she got to her feet.

"Well, I'm certainly am going to try my hardest so you're not proven wrong.," I added with a wink. I also stood up from the couch. I stared down at her and slid my hands around her tiny waist. Her hands came up to circle my neck and we stared at each other lovingly. "God I love you."

Abby chuckled in a sly manner before she stood up on her toes to press her bill to mine. I kissed her deeply; I was still on my emotional roller coaster. But our passionate moment was interrupted when she suddenly drew back from me. Her hand came up to her bill and her cheeks bulged out.

My eyes widened and I quickly scampered to my office door and opened it for her. I pointed in the direction of the restroom and Abby instantly darted out of the office.

"This is going to take some getting used to," I muttered to myself as the bathroom door slammed shut behind her.

That was the first time I had ever told anyone about what happened to me in the past. At least the first time I told anyone who cared. My brother and I were forced to see a child psychiatrist after the event for a year. Abby was the first person I told aside from that. And she would be the only person.

But after that confession, I never gave it much thought. There were more important things that required our attention. Such as planning for the coming of our child. Instead of going on our honeymoon, I took the time off from work to begin clearing out a room in our home for the nursery.

Women complain that pregnancy is not an easy experience. I don't doubt it. But it isn't exactly a picnic for the men, either. During the first trimester, there was the morning sickness. While Abby was throwing up several times a day, I was there beside her to hold back her hair and fetch her a glass of water--even in the middle of the night. And on top of that, I had to put up with her fiery temper after each time she exited the bathroom. I had to learn to just nod and agree with everything she said or else I would be sleeping on the couch.

Luckily, those problems left when the second trimester began. But we were faced with ones. Such as clothing. Abby had begun to show by the time the four month came along. And I was constantly faced with that question which could mean my life if I answered it wrong.

"Jake, does this make me look fat?"

Abby examined her reflection in the full-length mirror as she tried on a new blue sundress. I nearly strangled myself while I was attempting to put on my tie. But I gathered up my courage and turned around to look her up and down. Her growing belly was barely visible at four months and her body remained slender everywhere else.

"Uh, no! Of course not! That color is definitely you. It goes with your plumage." I cringed. I should have been able to come up with something more believable than that.

Luckily, it was good enough. She hopped across the room and grabbed me in a hug from behind. "Thank you, dear!"

She kissed me on the cheek and made her way out of our bedroom. I watched her go and breathed a sigh of relief. As the weeks went by and she continued to grow, I would be faced with that question numerous times and have to come up with a different answer each time.

Then there were the cravings. I was able to handle the phone calls I would receive at work, requesting me to pick up numerous items at the grocery store on the way home. But the evenings were another matter.

"Jake?"

I moaned and turned over in my sleep, pulling the blanket tightly around me. Abby's hand wrapped around my shoulder and she shook me gently to wake me.

"Jake? Honey, I need you to get me something," she whispered regretfully into my ear.

Lazily, I opened my eyes and stared at the bedside clock. The hands read that it was 2:30 in the morning.. I sat up in the bed and routinely fetched my long overcoat from the closet. Not bothering to change my clothes, I pulled it on over my silk pajamas as Abby listed off the items for me to pick up.

"Pickles, cheddar cheese, raspberry sorbet, and anchovies," she called after me as I trudged out of the room with my car keys in hand. If I hadn't felt like the walking dead, I probably would have gagged.

Not a week went by where I didn't have to make a trip to the 24-hour corner store in the middle of the night at least twice. The graveyard shift employee was able to time his watch by me.

"Hey, Mr. Mallard!" he greeted me cheerfully as I tiredly dropped the odd combination of groceries at the register. The employee raised an eyebrow at my purchase and passed me a smirk while he rang up the transaction. "Another case of the midnight cravings, huh? Don't fret it, though. It won't last more than another few weeks. My sister was through with that stage by the time she was at six months. But her poor husband developed insomnia afterwards," he informed with a laugh.

I, however, was not amused. I scowled impatiently at him through my half-closed eyelids. "Just give me my change, Charles."

"Right. Yes, sir," he answered sincerely with a nod before bagging the groceries and handing me my change. I took the bag and proceeded to make my way out of the store in a zombie-like fashion.

For three months I had to put up with those midnight trips. The good news is that when the seventh month came along, that problem disappeared. The bad news was that the emotions and attitude surfaced. The bad attitude.

"Jake! Where's my coat? I asked you NOT to move it from where it usually is kept!" Abby shouted angrily from the living room.

I was in the kitchen, still half asleep as I poured myself a cup of coffee and calmly, "It's hanging on the coat rack by the door, right where you left it, dear."

Seconds later, I heard sobbing from the living room. I rolled my eyes and trudged into the other room, coffee cup in hand. Abby was crying into her hands and looked up to face me when she heard my footsteps.

"Oh, Jake! I'm so sorry!" she wailed and instantly threw her arms around me. While she sobbed into my chest, I rolled my eyes upward and stared at the ceiling.

I brought my hand up and comfortingly patted her on the shoulder. "Relax, Abby. It's alright. Don't worry about it."

"I've just been so emotional lately. I'm so sorry that I keep snapping at you for stupid little things," Abby apologized. She took a step back from me only so she could tilt her head upwards and begin planting kisses on my bill. Only a few weeks remained until the baby was due. Her emotions were running wild and I was quickly becoming exhausted.

And that day, I was facing one of my worst fears. I was going to do something I hoped I never would have to do. I was going to a mall to go shopping with my wife. And not just any kind of shopping. Baby shopping.

The fact that she was eight months pregnant didn't stop Abby from doing what she loved. I was dragged in and out of every baby store. While she went from store to store and checked out every clothing rack, I had trouble keeping up with her, carrying a dozen shopping bags in my arms.

"Jake! Look at this! Isn't it adorable?" Abby asked me as I collapsed into a conveniently placed chair in the store to catch my breath. I looked up to see the frilly white and pink dress she was holding up for my approval.

I made a face in response. "Are you kidding? No dresses!"

She frowned in disappointment. "But why not?"

"Because we don't even know if it's going to be a boy or a girl yet!" I pointed out. We wouldn't find out the baby's gender until birth and I wasn't too keen on the idea of purchasing clothes for a girl right away. I never told Abby, but I was secretly hoping for a son. "Can't we settle for clothes that aren't gender-specific until we know?"

With a sigh, Abby reluctantly replaced the dress on the clothing rack. "You're right. There will be plenty of opportunities later on, right?"

I opened my bill to respond. Before I could get a word out, she gasped and her eyes lit up excitedly. She darted off in the opposite direction across the store. "Oh, Jake! Over here! Look at this!"

With a groan, I slapped myself in the forehead. Over the next few weeks, I experienced many more days of the same. As her due date approached, I became more exhausted. During the night, Abby would continuously toss and turn in bed. On several occasions, I was pushed over the side of the bed and ended up on the floor. And if she wasn't tossing and turning, she was complaining about her back or some other discomfort.

While Abby was on maternity leave from her job, I continued my busy work schedule. When I was at work, my neighbor would keep an eye on her and make frequent calls to be sure that everything was alright. I felt at ease knowing someone was available to my wife in case something happened when I wasn't home.

But I had become too exhausted to worry. During the last few days, my assistant constantly found me asleep at my desk to catch up on the rest I was lacking.

"Mr. Mallard?" Julia tapped me on the shoulder.

Instantly, I sat up with a slight sway. "Huh? What? I wasn't sleeping."

She only smirked, knowing better than to correct her boss, and set some papers down on my desk. "This is from the chief at the police department. It requires your signature before it can be approved."

I yawned and nodded before waving my hand to dismiss her. I tiredly left my lopsided signature on the signatory line, struggling to keep my eyes open. Once Julia had closed the door behind her, my head fell forward onto the desk once again. My eyelids were too heavy to keep my eyes open and I felt myself begin to drift off.

But before I could experience a blissful rest, my private line rang. I groaned loudly and considered ignoring the ringing telephone. After the fourth ring, my better judgment overcame my exhaustion and I reluctantly reached out to pick up the receiver. Lazily, I held it to my ear with my face still buried in the paperwork on my desk.

"Hello?" My voice was a low drone.

"Jake? This is Sylvia from next door. Abby's gone into labor and I'm taking her to the hospital!"

"Uh huh? Okay, that's nice. Buh-bye," I answered carelessly and replaced the receiver in its cradle without moving from my position. The urgent phone call didn't phase me right away. A few seconds went by before I sat up with wide eyes.

In an instant, I was on my feet and stumbling across my office. I grabbed my coat and bolted out the door. "Julia! Hold my calls and cancel my meetings!"

"Wait, Mr. Mallard! Where are you going?" she called as I rushed past.

"I'm having a baby!" I shouted over my shoulder as I hurried down the hallway. Julia, along with several other witnesses, stared after me with perplexed expressions. But I had no time to explain. I had to get to the hospital.

I'd like to think that I'm a decent driver. Normally. But this wasn't a normal day. I was driving like a madman, speeding through every light I came upon. When I look back, I was lucky that I wasn't the one who ended up in the hospital. Moments after I had left Mallard Enterprises, my 1961 Aston Martin screeched to a stop in front of the Emergency Drop-Off zone. I leapt out of my car and rushed inside to the nurse's desk.

"Abigail Mallard! She's my wife, she's in labor. Where is she?" I demanded between my panting breaths.

The nurse promptly picked up a clipboard from behind the counter and scanned the dozens of names before finding the right one. "She's on the second floor. Take the elevator up and go down the hall to the left. That's where the labor unit is located."

I nodded and made a beeline for the elevator. As instructed, I went to the second floor and quickly made my way down the left hallway. Unfortunately, there were several different delivery rooms. A nurse stepped out of one room and crossed the hallway. I jumped forward and intercepted her.

"My wife is in labor. Abigail Mallard. Which room is she in?" I tried to ask calmly.

The nurse beckoned with her finger and hurriedly lead me in the right direction down the hallway. As we got closer, I could hear Abby's painful screams echoing from inside the delivery room. We stopped in front of a pair of doors and I looked inside one of the small windows. Abby was sitting up on the delivery bed with her knees bent and her face scrunched in pain. The doctor was position in front of her along with a nurse. Another nurse was dabbing at my wife's sweating forehead with a damp cloth. A loud scream shot out from her bill that rang through my ears.

I began to reach for the door to enter but the nurse stopped me by grabbing me by the shoulder. "I need to be in there!" I insisted.

"Sir, you have to put these on first," the nurse insisted. She handed me a small stack of green scrubs.

Without arguing, I took the scrubs and quickly slipped them on over my business suit. As soon as I burst through the doors, Abby's head snapped in my direction.

"Jake!" she cried gratefully.

I rushed to the bedside and took the place of the nurse. "Abby, are you alright?" It was a stupid question and she made sure I knew that.

"What does it look like?" she barked impatiently at me. To further answer my question, she let out another loud scream. Her hand shot out and took a hold of mine. I held her hand tightly and used my free hand to brush her sweat-soaked hair from her forehead.

"Good, Abby. Good! Push and hold it!" the doctor instructed.

Abby panted a few times before taking in a deep breath and bearing down. At the same time, I clenched my teeth and tried not to groan in pain. Her grasp on my hand was like a tightening vice and her nails began to dig past my feathers and into my flesh. Another painful cry erupted from her bill. After several seconds, she exhaled painfully and her head lolled back tiredly.

The doctor nodded in approval and held out his blood-soaked, glove-covered hand as a nurse handed him a pair of medical scissors. "Good! The hard part is over, the head is out. Just a few more hard pushes!"

I allowed myself to glance to the side to where the doctor was looking. In an instant, I felt lightheaded and made a disgusted expression. I returned my glance to Abby and gently brushed her cheek with my hand.

"Come on, Abby. You can't rest now, you're almost there! Just a few more and--!"

"Don't you tell me what to do!" Abby suddenly snarled at me as she sat up again. For an instant, I could have sworn her eyes flashed a fiery red. She glared angrily and grabbed me by the green hospital shirt I was wearing.

"YOU did this to me!" she roared spitefully and yanked me towards her. "This is all YOUR fault! Never again! When we get home, I'm going to personally neuter you!"

My eyes widened fearfully. "Abby, calm down!"

She did anything but calm down. Instead, Abby yelled in frustration, balled her fist, and swung in my direction. Her knuckles came into hard contact with the side of my face before I crumpled to the ground in an unconscious heap.

The cries of an infant brought me back into consciousness moments later. My eyes fluttered open and I sat up with a painful groan. The side of my face was throbbing and already beginning to bruise. But I quickly ignored the pain and managed to pull myself to my feet when I heard the wails of a newborn. When I turned around, Abby was leaning tiredly against the bed. She was breathing heavily, but she was smiling nonetheless.

"Abby, are you alright?" I asked anxiously and rushed to her side.

She nodded and instantly took my hand gently in hers. "I'm wonderful, Jake. Just wonderful."

Another squall caught our attention and we both turned our heads to the side where the nurse was approaching with a small bundle in her arms. We both eagerly awaited her words.

"Congratulations, you two. You have a healthy baby boy."

A wide smile spread across my bill. The nurse gently lowered the infant into Abby's arms. As soon as she cradled our son in her arms, his cries ceased. Together, we both looked down at our newborn child for the first time.

His feathers were white. A few spikey feathers atop his head resembled his hair. His bill was a typical mallard's bill and he had defined cheeks. He was a spitting image of me. But when he opened his eyes for the first time to see his parents, they were a brilliant, deep blue color, just like his mother's eyes.

"Oh, Jake. He's beautiful," Abby whispered and lovingly stroked his cheek.

I nodded and placed a tender kiss on Abby's forehead. "You did good, Abby."

She smiled up at me before freeing one of her hands and placing it gently on the left side of my face where she had struck me. "Sorry about that, dear," she said with a slight laugh.

"Forget it. Nice right hook, though," I commented with a wink.

Abby chuckled and returned her gaze to the small infant in her arms. Carefully, she lifted him towards me. "Here, Jake. Hold our son."

At first, I hesitated, afraid that I would do something wrong. But I swallowed my worry and gently placed my hands underneath his small body. He squirmed in response to being moved and let out a few tiny grunts. I brought him up to my chest ad held him securely against me with one hand supporting his head. His eyes shifted upwards and for what seemed like hours, we stared at one another. I became determined to give the child I was holding what I never had. I became determined to be a good father.

"What name would you like on the birth certificate?"

The nurse's voice snapped me out of my train of though. Abby and I both looked at the nurse and then to one another questionably. We had never seriously discussed name possibilities.

But Abby smiled widely at me and made the decision for us. "Drake…"

I tilted my head at her. Slowly, I smiled in return and nodded in agreement. 'Drake' was my father's middle name--my REAL father.

"Yes, Drake Mallard," I confirmed to the nurse.

Abby reached up to gently run her hand over Drake's head. His eyes closed and he let out a tiny yawn in response before securely curling into the blanket.

We watched as quickly drifted off to sleep. Little did I know that the innocent child I was holding in my arms would grow up to be the public enemy and ruler of our city. He would turn into an maniacal master of evil. And it would be my fault.


	4. Selling Out

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Once again, thanks so much to all who left reviews! And thank you for being patient--this is the chapter where things begin to get interesting. And on a major note, the boardroom scene at the end of the chapter will seem familiar to all who have seen the movie 'Spiderman.' This was done on purpose. The idea of what happens to Jake came to me before the movie was released, which had interesting irony. When imagining what Jake's voice would sound like, I had chosen the great Willem Dafoe's powerful voice, who played the character in 'Spiderman' that was in a very similar situation. So that's that. No flames on the similarity, please.

Also, I don't know how long it will be until the next update. It may be a while, it may not be.

DISCLAIMER: All Darkwing Duck canon characters and the Darkwing Duck realm are © Disney. Jake and Abigail Mallard are © me.

**CHAPTER 4**

My life was at a high point. I had a loving wife at my side, a successful corporation under my command, and now a beautiful son. Everything I ever wanted. I wondered if life could get any better for me. It all seemed so perfect.

Well, almost perfect. If someone has ever told you that parenting is not easy--believe them. I am able to opt for that and I was around for only half of the time. Abby stayed home with Drake while she was still on maternity leave. I, on the other hand, was up at dawn and didn't come home until the early evening hours. Even so, the parenting situation was very new to me. But I'd like to believe that I caught on quickly in the little hands-on experience I had when home.

"Abby? I'm home!" I announced as I stepped inside the house and closed the door behind me. Over the jingling of my keys, I could hear running water in the kitchen.

"We're in here, Jake!" her voice called in reply.

'We.' I was getting used to hearing the change. But it was a welcomed change. Pulling off my long coat, which was now required at the tail-end of the fall season, I made my way into the kitchen to greet my wife and son after a day of hard work. Even then I noticed a new bounce in my step.

Abby turned around from the sink where she was busily scrubbing away at dishes to smile at me. Only a few months had passed since Drake was born and she had already slimmed her body down to its original petite form. "Hi, dear. How was your day?"

"Not too bad. Acquired another valuable client, fired a few slackers, settled another deal. So not too bad at all," I informed smugly. Abby gave me a congratulatory nod and returned to her cleaning over the sink.

Slyly, I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. My bill nuzzled her neck beneath her blonde curls. She chuckled and shifted her shoulders in response to my advances. "Jake, later! I have to get dinner started," she insisted coyly before giving me a quick peck on the side of my bill.

A high-toned cooing to my right turned my head in it's direction. Drake was sitting contently in a high-chair. In one hand he clutched a small plush rabbit. He seemed to find great amusement in banging it senselessly against the high-chair's table in front of him.

"There's my boy," I grinned and stepped across the kitchen to where he sat. Drake lifted his head from his activity to watch me as I stopped in front of him. I reached down and plucked him out of the high-chair in my hands. He squalled and kicked his feet in response to suddenly being moved. "Did you behave today for Mommy and--?"

I stopped. I tilted my bill upwards and sniffed the air. A gagging sound escaped my throat as my face turned sour. "What the Hell is that smell?"

"Jake! Watch your language around the baby!" Abby snapped, turning her head to glare over her shoulder at me before returning to scrubbing a pan. "And he probably just needs to be changed. Will you do me a favor and do that?"

My eyes went wide as saucers and I stared in her direction with disbelief. "What? ME?"

Abby sighed and shook her head, turning to face me. "Jake, I'm up to my arms in soap and filth!" she pointed out and held up her hands to prove her point.

"But--But I…!"

"Oh, it's not that difficult, Mr. Big-Shot-Business-Man!" she insisted before turning her back to me again, which meant 'end of discussion.'

I gave a defeated sigh and groaned. Drake stared back at me and waited patiently. Finally, I moved out of the kitchen and into the living room where the changing table was set against the wall. I gently layed Drake down on his back over the towel spread across the table. Blankly, I looked from the bag of diapers to the box of diaper wipes.

Drake stared up at me. I didn't know who was more nervous, him or me. I stared back down at him and shook his head. "In case you're wondering, no, I DON'T know what I'm doing."

I exhaled deeply and cracked my knuckles. Hesitantly, I took a hold of the safety pin of the diaper and slowly removed it. Then I took in a deep breath to prepare myself before pulling the diaper back and…

"UGH!"

On reflex I turned my head away from the putrid sight and smell which I wasn't prepared for. But I managed to swallow my fear and return to the task at hand. "Alright, I can do this…."

Minutes passed. As I was finishing up in the living room, Abby was putting the last of the dishes away in the cupboards. When suddenly…

"D'AAAHHH!"

Abby gasped loudly at the sound of my shrill yell of terror. "Jake?"

She spun around and dashed towards the living room. Just as she sped around the corner, I was sprinting past her. "Jake! What is it? What happened?"

"He pissed on me!" I shrieked and motioned to the yellow stain on my white shirt beneath my unbuttoned suit jacket. "The little rascal pissed on me!"

Abby stared at me in shock. But suddenly, she burst into laughter. I scowled grimly and folded my arms over my chest, not looking the least bit amused. And while Abby tried to suppress her snickers, I glanced towards the changing table. And I could swear that Drake was grinning deviously back at me in triumph.

Nights were no picnic, either. My next full night of sleep wouldn't come again for another five years. Not an evening went by where I wasn't awoken at least three times by the wailing of the infant in the next room.

Just as I would finally begin to drift off, the crying would pierce the air. I groaned and lazily pulled my eyes open. It was the second time that night Drake had let us know he was awake and wanted attention. I heard Abby sigh in exhaustion as she lay in bed beside me. Reluctantly, I managed to sit up. My hand gently rubbed her shoulder as I leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"I'll go," I said and kissed her on the cheek. She smiled gently with gratitude while I stumbled out of bed. I snagged my robe from where it hanged on the closet door and pulled it on before trudging out of the room.

Drake's wailing got louder as I came closer to the nursery. I stepped into the blue-painted room decorated with infant accessories and toys. A bassinet was set next to a crib against the left wall. I flipped on a small bedside light on the nightstand to illuminate the room adequately enough before approaching the bassinet. Drake was twisting about over the blankets and, although he continued to cry, he began to calm when his eyes gazed up at me.

"Alright, alright, kiddo," I cooed gently. Reaching down, I slowly lifted him into my arms and hoisted him up to my shoulder. I patted him softly on the back and rocked back and forth soothingly. "Shh, shh, shhh."

Within minutes, his cries faded into the occasional murmur. His head was nestled on my shoulder and his tiny fingers were curled around my robe. A tiny, silent yawn escaped his bill. I smiled triumphantly as he began to wander off into his innocent sleep again. When I turned around, I gazed out of the nursery window that faced the inner city area of St. Canard. At the time, one building towered above all the rest. Its lights were bright and it was crowned with a giant 'M.' A grin spread across my face while I continued to cradle my son.

"You see that, Drake?" I said, even though I knew he couldn't understand me. I looked out the window again to clarify the dwarfing Mallard Enterprises. "That's all going to be yours one day, son. I'll pass it down to you and I know you'll make me proud."

Drake had by then fallen asleep. His short breaths were barely audible. I carried him back to the bassinet and, as gently as I could, eased him down on the blankets without waking him. I turned off the lamp and darkness enveloped the room once again. As I left the room, I paused in the doorway and glanced once more in the direction that Drake slept.

I was eagerly looking forward to watching my son grow up. I wanted nothing more than for him to be successful. What I wanted most was for him to grow up and be just like me. And he WOULD end up being just like me. Just not in the way I had intended.

The next six years went by fast. I watched as my son grew along with my established enterprise, which was quickly becoming one of the most prestige in the country. Abby never went back to work for social services. She insisted on staying home to raise Drake instead of leaving him in daycare for half the day, five days a week. Instead, she returned to her musical talent of singing. She would free-lance performances at special events, such as weddings and other ceremonies.

I even went as far as to purchase a grand piano. It fit nicely in our spacious living room. And it was the least I could do if it meant Abby would be staying home to raise Drake. She was the most nurturing woman I would ever know and perfect for the job. When she would have a performance, I would bring Drake with me to listen to her beautiful voice. Surprisingly, Drake behaved and seemed to enjoy the music. As the years passed, Abby would begin to teach him how to play the piano. By the time he was six years old, he was better than most adults I had heard.

"Mind your thumb, Drake, "Abby instructed as she stood behind Drake. He was attempting to finish up the last bar of a minuet and trio piece.

Drake sighed impatiently from the piano bench and rolled his eyes. He responded sarcastically, "Yes, Mother."

"Watch your tone, young man," I warned, having just stepped in the front door.

Their heads turned at my arrival as I sat my briefcase down and hung my coat.

"Hello, dear," Abby welcomed me home. "How was your day?"

I tried to hide the tiredness in my voice and picked up my briefcase. "Fine. It was fine."

"That's good. Drake learned a new concerto today," she added and congratulated Drake with a pat on the shoulder.

But my mind was elsewhere. Clearly, I was distracted as I passed through the living room and headed directly for the stairs. "Uh huh, that's great."

Even though I didn't see her face, I could tell Abby was glaring after me as I retreated up the stairs and into my office.

"Drake, run through the piece once more. I'll be back in a minute," she told Drake and ran her fingers through the few feathers sticking up on his head. Leaning down, she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before pursuing me to where I had disappeared.

My office at home was a slightly more 'homely' version of my office at work. Organized, spacious, clean. Bookshelves and file cabinets took up the walls. The blinds of the single window were always kept closed to prevent me from being distracted. I was leaning over my desk, important files and documents strewn about, busily writing away at an important letter when I heard the insistent knocking at the closed door.

"Yes?" I called out distractedly as I continued my work.

The door opened and Abby stepped inside, closing the door behind her. "Jake, I need to talk to you."

"Can't it wait? I'm really busy with something right now," I said without looking up.

"You're _always_ busy. NOW."

I cringed. She rarely used such a firm, insistent tone. And when she did, either Drake was in trouble, or I was in trouble. With an exasperated sigh, I reluctantly set my pen down on the desk. I turned in my swivel chair to face her with a raised eyebrow. "Alright. What?"

Abby folded her arms across her chest and shot me an irritable scowl. "Don't 'what?' me, Jake. Look, I understand you've been busy and stressed over this big meeting you have tomorrow, but--"

"It's not just a 'big meeting,' Abby!" I interjected to correct her. "It's a meeting with the Corporate Executive Board of Directors. These are the people who fund major corporations and enterprises. These are the people who decide what businesses get the ax every year. These are the people I need to impress!"

"You mean while your son strives to impress you?" Abby bluntly pointed out. "Drake is starting school tomorrow, in case you've forgotten. I asked him last night, while you were working late at the office, what he hopes to accomplish in school. And do you know what he said? 'I want to be just like Daddy and make him proud.'"

Guilt suddenly slapped me hard in the face. My expression fell. It was true that in the past few weeks of preparing for the following day, I had given Drake very little attention. My hand came up to run down my face and I leaned back in my chair.

With a frown, Abby approached and positioned herself behind me. Her hands came to my shoulders and she proceeded to massage away the tense knots that formed over the past week. "Jake, I know you're dealing with a lot of stress over tomorrow. And I know how much tomorrow means to you. But don't forget how much you mean to Drake and I."

"I know, Abby. And I'm sorry," I apologized. I let out a groan as her hands firmly rubbed the base of my neck. "I _am_ a mess worry over tomorrow. But you're right. After tomorrow, I'll be sure to spend more time with you and Drake. Alright? I promise."

Abby craned her neck to look into my eyes. I stared back at her and a charming smile appeared on my bill to convince her. "Don't say it if you don't mean it, Jake," she warned.

"Hey, I mean it!" I reassured, still holding the sly smile on my face. "I'm definitely going to try. Besides, you two are more important to me than any business."

She finally smiled in return. Her bill came to mine and we shared a loving kiss.

Later that night, I sat on the edge of Drake's bed and tucked him in myself. I brought the blankets up to his chin while he snuggled into his pillow.

"I hope you're meeting goes well tomorrow, Dad," he said.

I smiled down at him. Even at only six years old, he was already intelligent for his age and learning fast. He had eavesdropped on my conversations about the corporate meeting several times.

"Thanks, kiddo. Everything will go fine," I said with confidence as I ruffled his hair. "And then you, your mother, and I are going to go out and celebrate, alright?"

Drake nodded eagerly back at me. "Are you and Mom going to take me to the bus stop tomorrow?"

I frowned at him and shook my head. "No."

His expression instantly fell until I continued.

"I'm going to drive you to school tomorrow myself."

Drake's face lit up before he yawned and allowed his eyes to close. "Goodnight, Dad."

My hand gently ran over his head. "Goodnight, Drake." I stood up and left the room, closing the door quietly behind me.

The next morning, I went into the board meeting with confidence and my head held high. Everything was off to a good start, proceeding smoothly. My presentation to the executive board of directors and fellow CEOs was absolutely flawless. Never in the history of running Mallard Enterprises had I ever made an error in any of the many important meetings. I was determined to keep it that way.

"As of today, Mallard Enterprises remains the principal supplier of the United States military and other government agencies. In short, ladies and gentlemen of the board, costs are down, revenues are down, and our stock has never been higher," I concluded my presentation from my seat at the head of a long boardroom table.

A dozen executives and other CEOs lined the table. All of them had their eyes busily scanning the charts and tables containing the written information I had verbally presented. I grinned to myself as I noticed several nods in silent approval.

"Excellent, Jake," the president of the board, James Flannery, congratulated. "I think I can speak for all of the board members when I say I'm impressed. This is excellent news. These numbers are astronomical. Which is why we're selling the Enterprise."

My triumphant expression fell like a ton of bricks. I had to make sure I heard right. "What?"

"We're selling Mallard Enterprises."


	5. Prelude to Madness

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you, reviewers! I appreciate the reviews VERY much. I'm sorry it took longer to get the next installment uploaded and I'm sorry to disappoint everyone with such a short chapter. However, the next chapter will be a long one, I promise. But it will probably take some time to write. I'm being kept very busy this summer and don't get much time to write. But please be patient, I promise it will be worth it.

DISCLAIMER: Drake Mallard and the Darkwing Duck realm are © Disney. Jake Mallard, Abigail Mallard, and all other characters mentioned are © me.

**CHAPTER 5**

My voice was caught in my throat. I could hardly believe what I had just heard. "What do you mean you're selling Mallard Enterprises?"

"The power struggle between Mallard Enterprises and other major corporations is leaving a nasty mark on the economy," Flannery explained to me and the rest of the board members. "It's not really so much with many other corporations, but mainly just one."

I immediately opened my bill to ask which other corporation was responsible for the downfall of mine. Before I could get a word out, another member at the briefing table stood up. My gaze shifted to the left and when my eyes fell upon the man, they instantly narrowed in resent.

"Mainly, me."

Todd Swanson. Founder and president of Swanson Incorporated, and my biggest rival. In the years passed, I had always managed to pull ahead of his business, but not by a lot. No matter how much the canine tried to look like a winner with his slicked back hair and Gucci suits, he always came in as number two.

"Swanson?" I asked, dumbfounded, and turned to Flannery for an explanation.

"The only way to end this competition is to merge the two major competitors," Flannery informed, sounding somewhat regretful. "And a merger can't occur without some expense. It just doesn't work that way. And Swanson Incorporated made us a tender offer that we just can't refuse. Swanson is buying out Mallard. With the two businesses combined, revenues and stock will go up sky-high. It will be unstoppable."

My mouth was agape but no words were coming out. "B-but wait a minute! What about…?" I managed to stammer. But I paused to inhale sharply and finally regain my voice.

"You can't do this to me. I started this company…" I passed my gaze to each person in the boardroom, looking for a sign of agreement. But every face was a blank stare. Seeing that I would get no help from anyone, I grew defensive, and my face hardened into a fiery glare. "Do you know how much I sacrificed for this business! How much I had to give up?"

"Now hold on a minute, Jake!" Todd interjected in a sickening, cheery voice. "This isn't the end of the line for you. You'll still hold a major position in the corporation. I wouldn't think of having anyone else as the vice president of Swanson Incorporated."

My eyes narrowed hatefully. Swanson's offer wasn't meant to be a complimented offer. It was an insult.

I sneered back at him in response. "I'd rather lose everything before working alongside YOU."

"Are you sure that would be wise, Jake?" Todd asked with a tilt of his head. The concern in his voice was disgustingly transparent. "But then again, look who I'm talking to," he added with a smirk.

My bill twisted into a snarl and I began to move towards him until Flannery's voice interrupted. "Gentlemen, please! This is a boardroom! Let's handle this civilly!" He passed me a scowl in warning.

I retreated a step. At this point, I was staring at Flannery pleadingly. "James, PLEASE."

"I'm sorry, Jake. The board is unanimous. We can't refuse this offer," he replied regretfully and held his hands up for emphasis. "Now, you won't be out of a job. That will be secure with the sell of Mallard Enterprises. And you always were an asset to the corporation."

"WERE an asset."

Barely audible, but I managed to pick up the three words that came from Todd's mouth. My hands slammed down on the table with an echoing boom. I needed to defend myself and this was my last chance.

"I'm STILL an asset to the corporate world!" I boasted insistently. My eyes darted from one board member to the next as I paced back and forth in front of them. "I've always managed to stay ahead of him in significant numbers! Agencies have always come to Mallard Enterprises before Swanson Incorporated. Besides, what military branch or police department is going to want to buy an automatic rifle with the name 'Swanson' on it?"

I saw Todd's eyes grow wide before jumping out of his chair. "Now hold on a minute!" he snapped and advanced towards me. He stopped when we were close enough to see the fire in each other's eyes. "Getting a little defensive, are we, Mallard?"

The tension in the room had escalated. I was a volcano ready to erupt. It took every ounce of energy for me now to hit the man in front of me at that moment. The board members were watching with wide eyes and mouths agape, anxiously awaiting what would happen between the two rivals.

I motioned to several of the board members with my hand for emphases. "YOU and your corporate proprietors. Oh you cool, considerate men! You hang to the rear of every issue so that if we should go under, you are to still remain afloat!" I sneered and turned away to pace in the opposite direction.

Todd stared after me in shock. "Are you calling me a COWARD?"

I stopped and turned around to face him with my eyes narrowed defiantly. "Yes! Coward!"

His face hardened in response and returned my scowl. "Madman!"

"Loser!"

"Prude!"

"WANNABE!"

"HAS-BEEN!"

Before I could think to stop myself, my hand balled into a fist and shot forward. Pain shot through my hand and up my arm when my fist came into hard contact with the side of Todd's face. He was flung backwards from the force of my punch and collapsed to the boardroom floor in an unconscious heap.

"The fiasco that took place today in an executive board meeting at Mallard Enterprises is said to have been the result of a dispute between two well-known St. Canard CEOs," the female reporter announced. Footage of me, enraged, being dragged out of the Enterprise by two police officers played with her narration. "Jake Mallard, President and founder of Mallard Enterprises, was escorted from the building by police this morning after he allegedly attacked Todd Swanson of Swanson Incorporated in the middle of a board meeting. It is rumored that the highly successful Mallard Enterprises is to be bought out by its biggest rival, which didn't sit well with CEO Mallard. More on this story as it develops."

Abby clicked off the television. She folded her arms across her chest and turned to face me with a scowl, not looking the least bit amused. I was slouched in one of the easy chairs in the living room and returned the scowl to her.

"That's nice, Jake. Very impressive," she said to me, her voice sarcastic. It was the first thing she had said to me since she picked me up from the police station. "Please, tell me. Do all well-to-do executives behave like that when something doesn't go right?"

"Oh give me a break, Abby," I groaned with a roll of my eyes. "I didn't _attack_ him. That reporter is exaggerating."

Her eyebrow raised. "You punched him in the face and broke his nose."

I scoffed. "Not my fault he's so delicate."

"Jake, how can you be so nonchalant about this?" Abby asked, beginning to lose her patience. "Haven't you considered the consequences of this mess? You're lucky Swanson decided not to press charges."

"Yeah, because he knows he would have gotten in just as much trouble with the board for provoking me," I pointed out.

"Is that so? What about your job?"

A defeated groan escaped my throat. "I'm still employed but….I don't have _my_ job anymore."

Abby frowned when she saw the forlorn, defeated expression on my face. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that the deal is final. Swanson now owns MY Enterprise." I deliberately explained the situation to slowly with a snide voice to make it perfectly clear how painful it was for me to explain my loss. "Therefore, he's now the one in charge, not me. I'm now nothing more than a typical, common, EMPLOYEE!" I finished in disgust as my fist slammed down on the chair's armrest.

Her eyes went wide. I had never spoken to her in such a manner before. The scowl returned to her face and she opened her bill to retaliate against my behavior towards her, but the front door opened. Our heads both turned to see Drake trudge through the door. He was dragging his backpack on the floor and his head lowered to the ground; he didn't even notice us as he walked past.

"Hello, Drake," Abby greeted with a warm smile as if the day's events had never happened. "How was your first day of school, sweetheart?"

Drake stopped and only turned his head towards us. "The other kids made fun of me and called me 'the rich kid.' No one likes me or talks to me very much," he sadly told us before he continued past us. Without another word, he ascended the stairs.

"Oh, honey…" Abby started after him but stopped when she heard the upstairs bedroom door close. She sighed and shook her head. "One of us should talk to him."

After a brief pause, she turned and stared at me. I returned her stare carelessly. "What?"

"You need to go talk to him," Abby insisted.

"No, I DON'T," I shot back. "In case you haven't noticed, Abby, I am NOT in the mood. Besides, this is nothing! He won't be teased and called 'the rich kid' much longer!" I pointed out, putting my problem first.

"Jake!"

I sighed and pulled myself from out of the chair. I snatched my coat from the coat rack and stormed towards the door.

"Wait a minute, where do you think you're going?" Abby demanded as I passed by her without a glance.

"Out."

"Jake, you can't be serious! What about Drake?" she asked as I pulled the front door open.

My head turned and I glowered over my shoulder at her. "YOU handle it."

And with that, I slammed the door behind me. I needed some time to clear my head and decide what to do next.

That was the first time I ever walked out on a confrontation with my family. And it wouldn't be the last. At the time. I thought I was at my life's low point and things couldn't get any worse. But my life would only continue to go downhill from that point. I was in for far worse and, unfortunately, so was my family.


	6. Makings of a Madman

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here is the next installment: a rather 'exciting' chapter. Please send in reviews--knowing that people are reading is what keeps me writing. Thank you and enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: Jake Mallard and Abby Mallard are © me. Drake and the Darkwing Duck realm are © Disney, so please don't sue me--I'm a college student with no money.

**CHAPTER 6**

The loss of my corporate empire was only the beginning of the events which would lead to my eventual insanity. Mallard Enterprises was my first big success in life. It as built from my ideas and hard work. And then, after several years of running it successfully, it was taken away from me.

After that point, I dreaded going to work every morning. I had to face Todd Swanson's smug, jeering grin as I passed the CEO office, which used to be mine and was now his. I was reduced to a pathetic small, cramped office. It was his way of reminding me of his triumph and my downfall. Everyday, my bill was rubbed in the harsh truth. I was no longer in power; I was just one among many.

Two weeks after my demotion, I received more bad news from Aviamitty. My mother was diagnosed with bone cancer and was dying. I found out that she was carrying the cancer for nearly ten years. She knew of the symptoms and didn't go to the hospital for tests until recently. Unfortunately, she had waited too long, and there was nothing any doctor could do for her.

I'd make the attempt to visit my mother to help care for her when time would allow. But Swanson's grudge kept a tight leash on me out of spite. After what had happened with the Enterprise, I sadly had little patience with my mother. I was angry with her. I was angry because she had waited to do anything about her illness until it was too late. My mother had always been an independent and emotionally strong woman, especially after what she had been through in her life. And seeing her so weak disheartened me. Because of that, I began to slip further into depression.

Weeks passed by very slowly. One night, I raided the undisturbed liquor cabinet at home and began to find comfort in alcohol. It didn't take long for it to become a daily necessity and I became dependent on the drink. My relationship with my family became more distant as each day passed. Abby and I bickered constantly and I barely said two words to my own son. Drake began to hide away in his room to avoid hearing the daily squabbles between his parents.

As Abby and I drifted apart, she made her presence around the house more scarce. Still active in her singing and musical art, she performed several times a week. She made it a point to take on as many jobs as she could during the evening so the two of us wouldn't have to deal with one another. She was sick and tired of my attitude and constant drinking while I was sick and tired of her nagging. The alcohol clouded my judgment and, being as spiteful as I had become, I grew suspicious about Abby's 'activities' when she was gone. The romance in our marriage was slowly being sucked away and I began to suspect her of infidelity.

Six months later, my mother died. I felt more rage than sorrow. The way I saw it, she was just one more person who betrayed me. But I still felt the heartache inside. I was now the only Mallard from my family remaining, I was causing more distance between my wife and I, and my relationship with Drake was practically non-existent. Never had I felt so alone.

But I really had no one else to blame for that but myself. One thing led to another as a chain reaction. I could have handled my demotion and the loss of Mallard Enterprises better than I did. The way I chose to cope came with consequences that I couldn't pull myself out of. One year, I was the most successful and well-known mallard in St. Canard. And then the next year I was nothing but a moping, alcoholic paper-pusher with a broken family.

It wasn't until nearly a year had passed after I lost my company that I finally lost my sanity and committed the most heinous crime. That night would haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. If there was one thing I could go back in time and change, it would be that night. The night I lost _everything_.

The day was like every other for the past few months. However, I got off of work early and immediately came home. The routine was the same: I'd trudge through the door, carelessly toss my keys onto the small table beside the door, and sulk into the kitchen. My first task was to get a bottle of alcohol in my hands to drown out the memories of the day's events.

I looked around the empty kitchen and strained my ears for any sound as I twisted the cap off of a new bottle of straight vodka. Abby wasn't home. I lifted the bottle to my bill and took a long swig before slamming my fist down on the counter, frustrated. But then I remember Abby mentioning to me the night before that she had a performance at a wedding that afternoon.

For several minutes, I leaned over the counter and glared at the far wall. Finally, I retreated into the living room to wallow in self-pity and reflect on how much I hated my life. I collapsed into the leather easy chair facing the TV with my bottle of vodka still tightly in my grasp. Some of the clear liquid splashed from the opening and onto the furniture, but I didn't even notice. And I no longer cared for my posture as I lazily slouched down in the chair.

My eyes darted back and forth restlessly. The only sound was the ticking of the pendulum clock on the wall. Finally, I leaned forward in the chair and outstretched my arm towards the TV to turn on the news. As I leaned back again, the image of Todd Swanson's grinning face appeared on the screen. He was being interviewed about his latest big sale. And I could swear that even though he was smiling smugly at the camera, he was smiling smugly at ME.

With a low snarl, my nails dug into the leather armrest as my blood began to boil. My hateful train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening behind me and then closing quietly. Shifting my eyes to the side, I caught sight of Drake meekly making his way towards the steps. But his attempt to remain unnoticed failed.

"Drake," I growled lowly from my chair without turning my head to face him. "Do you have homework?"

"Um…Yes, Dad," Drake answered nervously from the foot of the stairs. He waited a long moment for me to reply.

"Then get upstairs and get to it," I snapped irritably. I heard the light, rapid footsteps ascend the stairs and disappear with the sound of Drake's bedroom door closing.

I didn't notice it at the time, but I was lucky to have Drake for a son. At only eight years old, he was already incredibly intelligent, did well in school, and stayed out of trouble. But I was too busy wallowing in my own self-pity and reflecting on my unimportant losses to notice my own son's achievements.

Hours went by and I spent every one of them moping. Periodically, I would check my Rolex for the time. By now, it was nearly 7:00 and Abby still hadn't come home. Drake had kept himself hidden away in his room all evening.

Finally, I pulled myself out of the chair and trudged into the kitchen. I threw the empty alcohol bottle in the garbage chair and promptly returned to the cabinet for a fresh, unopened bottle. With a grunt, I yanked the cork out and took a long, soothing swig.

Just then, I heard the front door open. My head snapped to the side and watched as Abby stepped inside and removed her coat without acknowledging my presence. I waited a moment. When she began to stride past the doorway to the kitchen without a glance, I spoke up.

"You're late. Where were you?" I demanded.

Abby stopped and stepped back into the kitchen doorframe. "I had a wedding reception to perform at, remember?" she answered impatiently.

I gave her an unconvinced glower before taking another gulp from the bottle of vodka in my hand. She noticed this and rolled her eyes with a scoff before turning to leave the kitchen.

"Where do you think you're going?"

With an agitated sigh, Abby turned back around. She placed one hand on the doorframe and leaned to the side. "I'm going upstairs to check on our son, assuming you haven't said more than 'go to your room' to him."

"How would you know? You're rarely home as it is and always out doing your 'jobs'," I sneered. Then I added my bitter accusation before taking another drink. "Or doing your clientele in some instances."

Abby's eyes went wide in shock. Her hands came to rest on her hips as her temper began to flare to match my own. "I'm sorry to prove your accusation wrong, Jake, but I wouldn't commit adultery because I have some self respect and dignity, which is more than I can say about you right now. It's as if that bottle is attached to your hand."

Suddenly, I stood upright, the alcohol bottle in my hand, and I slammed it down on the corner of the countertop in fury. The bottle shattered with a loud crash, shards of glass littering the counter and floor.

The two of us glared at one another, waiting for a reaction. Finally, Abby threw her hands in the air in exasperation, turned her back on me, and walked away into the living room.

"Abigail!" I shouted angrily after her. In a fury, I stormed out of the kitchen after her. "Don't walk away from me, Abigail! Get back here!"

"No, Jake! Don't you DARE tell me what to do!" she retorted as she spun around to face me in the center of the living room. Neither of us noticed that Drake had exited his room and was inconspicuously witnessing our argument from the top of the staircase. "I WANT to walk away!"

I fell into a strange calm. The calm before the storm. "What?" I asked quietly. When Abby didn't give me an immediate answer and looked away, I repeated myself in a more demanding tone. "What! Why? Dammit, tell me WHY!"

When I reached out to grip her by the arm, she forcefully pulled herself away. "Get your hands off of me, Jake Elias Mallard! You want to know why? Because I don't even know who you are anymore!" Abby spat in disdain. She exhaled deeply, her voice growing softer but remaining intense and sincere. "For the past year, the romance in our relationship has been growing dim. And now it's gone, Jake. You lost sight of your priority to your family when you got caught up in your precious corporate affairs. And now you'd rather drink away your sorrows and wallow in self pity instead of accepting support from your family. You're no longer the man I married, Jake, and you've been anything but a father to our son for several months."

Abby eyed her set of keys laying on the coffee table before scooping them up in her hand. Side-stepping me, she moved to the foot of the stairs and stopped to stare coldly over her shoulder at me.

"I'm leaving you, Jake. And I'm taking Drake with me."

Something snapped inside me. My eyes widened in shock at her stinging words. I had already lost my pride and dignity. Now I was losing my family. Abby was going to leave me and take my son with her. But I wasn't about to let them go.

Before I could give my actions a second thought, I lashed out and grabbed Abby by the arm, forcefully jerking her back towards me. "You're not going anywhere!"

"Jake! Let go of me!" Abby shouted fiercely at me.

I did let go of her. But I drew my hand back and slapped her hard across the face. The force sent her sprawling to the floor with a startled cry.

"No one leaves me!" I snarled and aggressively approached where she had fallen. "I said you're not going anywhere! You belong to ME!"

Abby groaned painfully and turned over on her side. She lifted her head to see me standing over her. Her eyes went wide as they searched my own for the man I used to be. But all that was left was an insane, blazing fire.

With an angry growl, I reached down and grabbed a handful of her blonde curls. "Get up!"

Roughly, I yanked her to her feet by her hair. Abby kicked and yelled, violently struggling to pull herself free with all her might.

"You're hurting me! Jake, stop!" she shouted with another cry of pain. Her arms flailed wildly in the air, searching for my face.

I yelled painfully when her nails came into sharp contact with my eyes. "You bitch!" I shrieked, temporarily blinded. In a fit of rage, I forcefully threw her forward and rubbed my wounded eyes. Abby stumbled forward, lost her footing, and tripped. She fell forward and her head hit the corner of the coffee table, hard. Another shrill cry escaped her bill before she fell to the floor, unconscious.

When I managed to clear my vision, I looked to where Abby had fallen. My eyes narrowed bitterly at her still form. I waited several seconds for her to move. She didn't.

Calmly, I approached where she lay. I crouched down beside her and pushed some of her messed blonde hair back from her face. Blood began to stream down her head and bruises were appearing on her white plumage. And I felt nothing. Not the slightest bit of remorse.

Small, shallow breaths still wheezed from her bill. When I noticed this, I rose to my feet again and disappeared into the kitchen. I returned seconds later with a kitchen knife in my hand. Abby was right. I wasn't myself anymore. I didn't even recognize myself as I was about to do what I would never think of doing in the past.

I crouched down beside her again. The blade of the knife in my hand glinted in the sunset seeping in through the windows as I sadistically ran it along her delicate bill. A cruel snarl crossed my bill as I drew my arm back.

But suddenly, I was jumped from behind. A small figure leapt onto my back and wrapped its arms around my neck.

"Dad, no! Don't!"

A strangled snarl erupted from my throat as the weight of Drake on my back nearly sent me toppling backwards. Unable to see him, I spun around with enough speed to bring him sliding to one side. My hand holding the kitchen knife swung around towards him before I could stop myself. Drake cried out as he stumbled backwards and fell to his knees, slu5tching his left forearm with his right hand. Blood rapidly began to seep through his clenched fingers.

"That was very noble and brave, boy," I seethed and threw the knife aside. Once I was on my feet again, I approached Drake with clenched fists. "Stupid, but nonetheless brave."

Drake gasped weakly while he stared up at me; the tall, dark, intimidating figure that not even I would recognize. His eyes were wide with fright when I reached down and snatched him by the arm to yank him roughly to his feet.

"Dad, stop it! Leave us alone!" he wailed pleadingly as he kicked and screamed, vainly struggling to free himself from my vice-like grip.

I dragged Drake into the kitchen. From one of the drawers, I retrieved a roll of duct tape, and proceeded to carry my son to one of the finely carved wooden kitchen chairs. I struggled to sit the protesting eight-year old in the chair but managed to securely wrap him to the chair in the thick tape.

Drake whimpered and lowered his head to the floor, wiggling his small body at a meager attempt to loosen the tape. "Daddy, why? Why are you doing this to us? Why are you hurting us?" he begged to know.

There was a strange, unusual pause accompanied by an eerie silence as I stared down at him. And then, suddenly, it was as if a gunshot went off in my head. My hand suddenly swung forward and I slapped Drake across the left side of his face with such force that the entire chair nearly crashed to the floor.

His scream if pain pierced my ears but I felt nothing. Again, I hit him, out of control with rage. "You'll learn to speak when spoken to! _I'm_ in charge in this house! You do what I say! And I saw neither of your are going anywhere!" I roared and continued to deliver blow after blow.

I didn't notice Abby regain consciousness in the living room behind me. Her eyes weakly fluttered open at hearing her son's screams and cries. With a light groan, she mustered whatever strength she had left and lifted herself with her arms. And when she saw me beating our son to near death, her eyes narrowed in pure hate.

The knife I had dropped on the floor moments earlier lay just feet away. Abby outstretched her arm as far as she could and managed to wrap her fingers tightly around it's handle. Blood still dripped from the wound on her head, weakening her with every passing moment. But she brought herself to her knees, gripped the knife tightly, and let out an angry yell just as I was about to strike Drake again.

"NOOO!" Abby shrieked. She hurled the knife forward with all of her might, which ultimately brought her collapsing to the floor.

The knife sliced through the air and impaled the back of my right shoulder. "D'yaahh!"

Pain shot through my arm and my chest. I staggered a few steps just from the impact alone and leaned against the counter. My breath came out in sharp pants until I realized what had happened. Reaching over my shoulder with my left hand, I felt around until I found the handle of the knife. The blade had cut through the jacket of my suit and only tore through an inch of flesh. I grabbed onto the handle and took a deep breath before yanking with one swift movement. I cringed and hissed painfully as the blade left my skin, leaving behind a bloody gash.

My head turned and I glared accusingly at Abby. She scowled defiantly in return, but I could see the fear in her eyes. "Leave him alone, Jake!" she tried to demand but could only plead.

"You bitch," was my response in a low growl that didn't sound like my own voice. After a brief pause, I returned my attention to Drake. His head was cocked to one side and his eyes were closed. Bruises, cuts, and red marks were already covering most of his face.

I took a hold of the chair and turned it around so that Drake was facing the direction of the living room. The movement caused him to groan and pull his eyes open to stare forward, confused. "Mommy…?"

Abby shook her head in disbelief. Tears bordered her eyes and she struggled to suppress her sobs for his sake. "Jake, stop this! Let him go! PLEASE!"

"Now, you watch this, alright kiddo?" I leaned down and whispered sinisterly into Drake's ear. "I'm going to show you how to permanently deal with a problem."

At that moment, it was as if I was standing outside of myself. I wasn't the same person. Instead, I watched as the monster I had become slithered like a snake back to my fallen wife. Once again, I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to her feet only to strike her back to the ground.

Just feet away, Drake cried and sobbed as he was forced to watch while I violently pummeled, slapped, and kicked his mother beyond all reason like a ragdoll.

'_No! Stop! What are you doing? Don't do this!'_ I tried to shout at myself. But the thoughts were lost in the back of my mind. I could only watch as insanity turned me into a cold-blooded killer.

My rampage didn't last for more than a minute. I struck Abby one last time with a closed fist and she fell to the blood-stained carpet. Drake's whimpers and quiet sobs were still heard behind me as my eyes locked onto her fallen body. She lay still, motionless. She had not one white feather left on her body. Her once brilliant, golden curls were stained red. The normal goldenrod color of her bill significantly paled. The cross necklace she always wore hung limply around her neck. Not even the shallowest breath escaped her bill.

Slowly, I turned around. Drake had turned his head to the side and squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn't witness my murderous act. Tears had started streaming down his cheeks. My bloodied hands clenched into fists and my bill curled into a snarl before I began to step towards him.

When he heard my approaching steps, Drake hesitantly opened his eyes and faced forward. He had given up on trying to free himself from his bound prison and he was trembling when I came to a stop just inches in front of him. His teary, dark blue eyes bore sadly into mine, which were cold and filled with spite.

Drake's eyes stared past me at Abby's unmoving form, as if hoping she would rise and come to his rescue. But she did not move. Then his gaze returned to mine.

"You're not my father…" he whispered hoarsely between his tiny sobs. Suddenly, his face hardened. "I don't know who you are. I hate you!"

My hand came swinging forward at Drake again, this time in a closed fist. He never got to speak another word as I began to inflict the same upon him as Abby. Mercilessly, I beat him for minutes until his small, broken body slumped in the chair. He was lifeless.

The anger suddenly disappeared from my eyes. My fierce expression fell as I returned to my senses and the realization of what I had done sank in. I turned around and gasped sharply, as if I had just seen my now deceased wife for the first time.

"Abby…?" I whispered in complete shock. "No, Abigail…."

I had to turn my head away, unable to bear the sight. But I turned only to have my gaze fall upon the beaten form of my son.

"Oh, God. Drake…" I choked. I couldn't tell if he was still breathing, but I assumed that he was not. My hand shakily reached out to touch him until I sharply drew it back.

A sob was caught in my throat and I began to tremble. "No! What have I done!"

My hands shot up to cover my face and I broke down, sobbing. My worst fears had come true. I had lost everything and I destroyed my family. Now I was alone with nothing. The most important thing in my life, my family, was gone because of me.

I rubbed the tears from my eyes and looked around frantically, unsure of what to do. For the first time since I was a young boy, I was frightened. Outside, the sun had set and the sky was covered in a blanket of dark thunderclouds.

Pain suddenly shot through my arm again, reminding of the wound on the backside of my shoulder. I cringed and lifted my left arm to clamp my hand over the still-bleeding welt. I knew I couldn't stay there. My spree of violence would soon be uncovered and I would be imprisoned, proof that my life could still go further downhill.

Taking a few final, quick glances at the bloody scene around me, I hurriedly made a quick retreat out the front door. I left everything behind me and disappeared into the night with nothing.


	7. Agent Instillation

AUTHOR'S NOTE: My goal with this chapter was to finish it before I went to Phoenix for a week. Also, I've enabled anonymous posting with the hopes of getting more reviews. I'll admit it, I'm a review junkie. I won't stop writing if I don't get many but I do love receiving them. Constructive criticism is welcome as long as it's done in a reasonable manner. And thank you to Amanda Rohrssen and Ethel Grimes with some help on this chapter!

DISCLAIMER: J. Gander Hooter and SHUSH is © Disney. Jake Mallard and all other characters mentioned are © me.

**CHAPTER 7**

I ran aimlessly for miles and miles without stopping, the screams and cries following me the entire way. I didn't even glance over my shoulder to see what I was leaving behind. All I could do was run. Running is something you do when you're scared. And for the first time in my adult life, I was scared.

Dark clouds had settled over St. Canard, bringing a violent thunderstorm with them. A sudden downpour of rain beat down on me while I ran, soaking my feathers and my clothes. My shoes splashed through the puddles that were quickly forming on the street. Being close to midnight, I passed very few people on the dark sidewalks. The few that did see me only watched me speed by with puzzled expressions before continuing on their way.

I didn't finally stumble to a stop until I turned down an alleyway, which was ultimately a dead end. Slowing to a stop, I hunched over with my hands on my knees to catch my breath. My heavy breaths were mixed with despairing sobs. I straightened up and shook my head, choking on my silent cries.

My hand came up and brushed the drenched feathers on my head out of my eyes. I trudged over to a crate setting against the alley wall and sat down. Thunder boomed loudly in the sky and rang through my ears like a canon. I buried my face in my bloodstained hands and cried to myself.

"Oh, Abby…" I whispered mournfully. "Why? Why didn't we see this coming before it was too late? Why did I punish you and Drake for MY mistakes?"

My right hand brushed over my left and something caught my attention. I lifted my head and looked down at the gold wedding band on the ring finger of my left hand. Tenderly, I stroked the ring while the memories of Abby slipping it onto my finger on our wedding day. With a painful frown, I ripped the ring from my finger and clenched it in a closed fist. I pulled my arm back to hurl it out into the street. But I stopped and lowered my arm. I opened my hand and gazed down on the ring for a long moment before hesitantly replacing it onto its rightful finger.

I looked around and noticed my surroundings for the first time since I'd stopped. Obviously, I had crossed the city to one of the run-down areas of St. Canard. Before that night, I believed I was too proud to be seen in this part of town. This was where criminals would gather. Now I would fit right in.

"Now what am I going to do?" I asked myself fearfully. I had nothing left. There was nothing for me to return to and it would only be a matter of time before the police would be after me. My life was over. At the age of 33, when most men prosper, I was dead.

Footsteps splashing through the puddles outside of the alley became audible, but I sadly paid the approaching persons no mind.

"Hey! Wait….There he is!"

I lifted my head and looked alertly to the entrance of the alley. Two men, a mallard and a beagle, were clad in black suits and blocking my escape out of the alley. The beagle pointed directly at me. I found it ironic that they were wearing dark sunglasses at 11:00 p.m.

The two men started to approach me at a fast, threatening pace. Surprised, I jumped to my feet, panic enveloping my mind.

"Oh no…" I whispered to myself and began to back up. The first thought that came to mind was that the cops had found me and they were prepared to haul me off to a jail cell.

They came closer and I continued to back up. My eyes were wide, betraying my once cool, calm exterior. A gasp escaped my bill when my back hit the cold wall of the alley's end. I was trapped. They stopped just feet in front of me, showing no sign of intimidation.

"You're coming with us, sir," the mallard demanded in a low, firm voice.

But I was never defeated easily, corporate world or not. The anger and rage that had possessed me not long before surged through my veins again.

My eyes narrowed and my hands clenched into fists. "I'm going NOWHERE with you yahoos!" I snarled in response.

In a swift movement, I swung one of my fists forward. It came in hard contact with the side of the mallard's head and sent him staggering backwards. The canine rushed forward at me with a swing of his arm. I was able to clamp my hand around his forearm and fiercely yanked it behind his back. He let out a sharp yell of discomfort and I prepared to hurl him forward into the stone wall. But a hand clamped over my shoulder and forced me to spin around and come face-to-face with the mallard. Just as he prepared to shoot his own fist forward at me, I swung his partner around and thrust him with all my force into him. Their heads conked together with force and sent them both crumpling to the floor.

An exhausted chuckle of triumph came from me as I staggered backwards towards the mouth of the alley to make my getaway. Now I was becoming a convicted felon for not only murder but for assaulting who I believed were authorities. And I didn't care. I just grinned to myself and continued backing up while staring at the unmoving men where they fell at my hands.

Just as I stepped out of the alley and turned around to walk away, a deep voice sneered from behind me.

"Leaving? So soon?"

My eyes went wide. Before I could turn around to face the source of the voice, I was suddenly hit from behind on the back of my head. Hard. And everything went black.

When I woke up, my head was pounding. I was sprawled out on a cold cement floor in a small room. With a painful groan, I weakly lifted my head and my eyes fluttered open. My vision was blurry and I had to squint my eyes several times before it cleared. Then I saw that I wasn't in a room. I was in a cell. In front of me were a row of bars with no one on the other side.

I pushed myself up to a sitting position and rubbed my head with my hand, causing me to flinch. So this is what prison was like. In all my life and in all of my success, I never would have imagined that I'd end up as a criminal behind bars.

Finally, I shakily got to my feet. I was still somewhat disoriented and swayed before regaining my balance. It must have been hours since I had been brought there. My suit, once damp from the rain, was now dry and wrinkled.

And suddenly, I was feeling very constricted and claustrophobic. I looked around nervously while I pulled my tie loose from my neck. Being as paranoid as I was, I didn't hear the footsteps approaching from behind.

"Well, you're still alive."

I spun around with a gasp. Standing outside of the cell were two more suited canines in sunglasses. Standing between them was a much shorter avian resembling a goose. A pair of spectacles rested on his small beak and he wore a classy brown suit. He looked only a few years older than I was; the voice I heard belonged to him.

"Who the Hell are you?" I snapped defensively, attempting to not become intimidated. But instead of stepping forward, I stepped backward.

He gave me an amused chuckle. "You are feisty, I'll say that for you. But, obviously, you're in no position to be making demands. I am J. Gander Hooter. It didn't take us very long to track you down, Jake Mallard."

All my feathers stood up on end. I stared forward at him with a very puzzled expression. "How do you know me? What do you want with me? Am I in jail?"

The man named J. Gander Hooter laughed again at my expense. "No, my friend. You haven't been arrested. We're not the police," he informed me, then he added darkly, "You're in SHUSH custody now."

"SHUSH? The Sinister Headquarters of Universal Sentinels for Humanity?" I repeated, astounded. "I've…heard rumors but never actually believed you existed."

"We've existed for years. But we're just now rising in power in St. Canard," J. Gander continued while he began pacing in front of the cell door. "Every year we commit more devious acts, steal more secret ideas from our enemies, and come closer to domination. We get by in secrecy, but not for long. It will only be a matter of time before we won't have to hide anymore. One day, we'll overrun the authorities and take over the city."

While he told me the plans for the organization, I curiously stepped forward. I stopped in front of the cell door and wrapped my hands around the bars, staring down at him. "What does that have to do with me?"

J. Gander stopped his pacing and smiled up at me. A wicked smile. "We have only the best personnel for our agents here at SHUSH, Mallard. It takes a lot, both physically and mentally, to be one of us. My agents need to be intelligent, strong, and merciless. With a little work, you'll be a perfect recruit."

"What makes you say that?" I argued with a sneer.

His face fell into an impatient scowl. "We know about you, Jake. We've been watching you for a while now. Not everyone has what it takes to establish the success that you've had. And it takes a lot for someone to murder his family."

Heat rose to my face and the anger swelled up inside me. My hands clenched the bars so tightly that my knuckles began to turn pink. I bared my teeth and wanted to lunge forward like a wild animal.

"I'll never join you!"

"What other choice do you have, Mallard? Please, tell me," J. Gander spoke calmly, not affected in the least by my sudden aggressive behavior. "You have NOTHING to return to and it will only be a matter of time before the police put you in a real prison with a life sentence attached. You don't have a choice."

My eyes flashed defiantly. "And what if I object?"

"Then you die. Simple as that."

The reality of the ultimatum didn't even strike me. At that point, death didn't frighten me. I had no life left. And I wasn't about to give in to their threats.

"Sorry, but no," I answered snidely. "Do your worst."

J. Gander's expression darkened and his eyes narrowed. With a sigh, he removed his spectacles and casually cleaned the lenses on his jacket, shaking his head. "You disappoint me, Mallard." He replaced his glasses and nodded to the agents flanking his sides. "Boys?"

One of the agents stepped forward and removed a keyring from his jacket to unlock the cell door. It opened with a shrill ring and they swiftly entered the cell. I took several steps back and braced myself for another fight.

"Come on! I can take you two yuppies!" I snarled loudly and balled my hands into fists.

The first agent, a bulldog with a cold, lifeless face, reached forward to grab one of my arms. My fist swung forward and I hit him with all of my might in his jaw. I let out a painful yowl and pulled my hand back in shock. It was like hitting a brick wall. A brick wall that didn't even flinch.

I cradled my crushed fist with my other hand with wide eyes. Four strong hands clamped around each of my arms and the agents proceeded to pull me out of the cell. I began to thrash my arms and drag my feet, fighting to free myself.

"Let go!" I roared while they dragged me down the cell corridor and through a long white hallway. Several other suited agents passed by, not giving me a second glance as if it were an every day occurrence. I grunted and growled as I continued to fight. J. Gander calmly followed behind us.

At the end of the hallway was a single door. The agent effortlessly pushed it open and the two of them roughly shoved me inside. Their force was extreme enough to send me stumbling forward and crashing to the floor.

I groaned loudly and lifted my head to see my surroundings. Two chairs and a table were shoved to one side of the medium-sized square, white room which resembled an interrogation room. Instead of a two-way mirror on one wall, there was another door leading to an unknown room.

Placing my palms on the white floor, I began to lift myself. But suddenly, I was kicked forcefully in the side by the bulldog agent. All the air was blown out of my lungs in a large gasp and I collapsed to the floor again. I struggled in inhale a breath, but I received another violent kick. My chest immediately became sore as I felt some of my ribs cracked. Once again my lungs were emptied, further weakening me. I tried to fight back the tears that were beginning to sting my eyes. Each time I coughed from the lack of air, I felt the sharp burning sensation in my chest.

The agent stepped over me. His hands clamped around my suit jacket and hoisted me three feet above the ground before hurling me back to the floor on my face. My bill was crushed into the ground, the pain in my face excruciating. Two more times I was slammed to the ground, each time draining a little more life out of me. I laid still, panting desperately.

But I struggled to get up, determined not to be beaten down. My arms quivered as they attempted to lift me off of the floor. I saw the shadow of the brute agent looming over me and I squeezed my eyes shut, anticipating the next blow. Instead, he grabbed me by the back of my jacket and yanked me to my feet to face him. My breaths came in short gasps but I mustered a defiant glower, staring into the dark lenses of his sunglasses. For an instant, I believed it was over. They saw my determination and would let me go.

A foolish assumption. His fist was as fast as lightning and struck me in the face. My head snapped to the side, the force nearly breaking my neck. And then another blow. And another. The fifth punch to the side of my head sent me sprawling to the floor again. Blood dripped from the side of my bill and I could already feel my left eye beginning to swell.

I was clinging to consciousness. My chest was on fire and my head felt as if it were being crushed. Short, shallow breathes wheezed from my bill and my eyes were barely able to stay open. I wanted to curl up and die. But I knew they wouldn't let me escape my sins so easily.

The agent moved in for another round of physical abuse. Just as he drew his arm back for another strike, J. Gander's voice interrupted.

"That's enough. We don't want him dead."

With an objective grunt, the bulldog lowered his arm and obediently stepped back. J. Gander circled me once, his arms folded behind his back. He stopped in my line of sight, knowing that I didn't have the strength to turn my head.

"How does it feel, Mallard?" he asked me curiously. "Do you think your loyal wife felt as much pain while you were mercilessly taking her life away? Or your son? The two people who loved you most? Who you destroyed?"

I could only groan with agony in reply. I didn't have enough strength to form words. The images of my attack on Abby just hours earlier brutally replayed in my mind. Now I was in her position.

J. Gander leaned down to look directly into my lifeless eyes. "You're a cold-blooded murderer, Jake. We're going to make you realize that truth."

He stepped out of my vision. Seconds later, I felt the two pairs of hands grab my shoulders and drag my limp body across the room towards the smaller door I'd noticed moments earlier. J. Gander lift the latch and opened the metal door in front of me to reveal a small five-by-five foot room. There was nothing inside, not even a light. The walls and floor were smooth concrete.

The two agents heaved me inside and I slumped to the floor against the back wall. Weakly, I managed to lift my head to stare forward. J. Gander simply nodded once at me before one of the agents slowly closed the door with a loud clang. Then I was enveloped in darkness.

"_Look what you've done, Jake. Look what you've done to us. To you."_

Her soft, hurt voice echoed in my head. I lifted my eyes to stare forward in search of her but only saw black.

"Abigail?" I whispered weakly. "Abigail, I'm sorry. So sorry…"

"_It's over, Jake. It's too late,"_ she answered, a regretful tone in her voice. _"You're not the same person anymore. And now, we've ultimately paid the price."_

I shook my head in denial and squeezed my eyes shut to hold the tears back. "Don't go, Abby. Please, don't go. I need you."

"_Not anymore, Jake. You're going to keep changing into something unrecognizable and I'll only become a memory. Perhaps someday we'll meet again." _Her voice was fading, becoming more distant. But she called out to me one last time.

"_He's alive, Jake. He's still alive…."_

I couldn't hold my head up any longer. My eyes rolled up as my head lolled forward, slipping into unconsciousness while her words echoed in my mind.

For two weeks, I was kept in that small, dark room. The only light that crept inside was from the small slit in the door where my food and water was delivered. I was fed barely enough to keep me alive and no more. Not a word was spoken to me aside from the occasional taunting laughs from the agents.

The cell reeked of sweat and urine. The floor was littered with my feathers that had either fallen out or I had pulled out of my flesh in one of my occasional lapses of sanity. The air was thick and stale, constantly causing me to become dizzy. I was treated like a caged animal.

Finally, I heard the latch creaked open and a loud clang as the door slowly swung open. The sudden surge of bright light made me flinch and squint my sensitive eyes. I slowly lifted my head to see the two agents again, the bulldog and the beagle. They both reached forward and took a hold of my arms, dragging me out of my prison. I had no life left in me to fight back.

They pulled me out into the larger white room and dropped me face down on the cold floor. I inhaled the fresh air desperately but I was still too weak to stand on my own. My body was sickly and needed the nourishment it was deprived of for weeks. The clothes I still wore were wrinkled and torn. The feathers on my face were matted and tangled. My appearance was weak and sickly.

I managed to pull my eyes open and saw the familiar pair of spats standing in front of me at eye level. I panned my eyes upward to see J. Gander staring down at me.

"Impressive. You're still alive, Mallard," he sneered down at me. "But not for long."

J. Gander looked up at the bulldog agent and nodded before stepping back. The brutish agent circled me once before he leaned down and hoisted me to my feet by my shoulders. I lifelessly allowed myself to be dragged across the room to where he pinned me to the wall. My head wavered back and forth a couple of times and I carelessly remained still. I knew another beating was coming.

The stench of his breath burned my nostrils as he leaned forward, his face just inches from mine. I barely held my eyes open to see him studying me carefully. For a prolonged moment, nothing happened. Then he slapped me across the face with an opened hand. The second slap was harder than the first and I was on the floor again.

I didn't make any effort to get up. Instead, I waited for the pummeling to continue. He stepped right in front of me and glared down at me through his sunglasses.

"Does it feel good?" the agent growled at me in a deep, strong voice. "How does it feel to fall so many times? You're nothing now, Mallard. NOTHING. Your wife and son were the lucky ones. They got to escape the torment. But you won't."

Every muscle in me tensed. The life suddenly returned to me with the rejuvenated rage. I lifted my head and glared ravenously up at him with a murderous gleam in my eyes. And suddenly, my fist shot forward and hit him in the center of his groin with hard force.

He howled in pain and stumbled backwards, his hands shooting down to sooth his wounded area. J. Gander and the other agent stepped backwards, their eyes wide with surprise as the surging testosterone brought me to my feet. Before they could intervene, I was on the bulldog with raw fury.

My fist swung forward again and struck the side of his face. The sunglasses flew from his face and I was able to see his frightful, wide-eyed stare. I swung again with my right fist, and then my left. Pain shot through my arms but the adrenaline made it unnoticeable. He grunted and gasped in agony with each blow. My eyes were a blazing fire of hatred.

I took him by the shoulders to steady his massive, swaying body so I could jab my knee upwards into his stomach. A heavy gasp exploded from his mouth and he gagged for air. Blood was slowly forming from the side of his mouth and the fresh cuts on his face. He staggered backwards and weakly lifted his head to stare at me as I quickly lunged for him again. With a loud roar, I brought my fist down on his head with all of my might. I heard the impact on his skull and watched emotionlessly as he crumpled to the floor at my feet.

The agent didn't move. If he was dead, I didn't care. I panted heavily, my shoulders heaving and my hands still clenched in fists. Any compassion I may have had was drained from my soul. Unlike my attack on my family, I had no remorse.

J. Gander finally stepped up beside me. A satisfied smile was clear on his middle-aged face as he looked up at me.

"Welcome to SHUSH, Agent Mallard."


	8. Second Chance, Another Life

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I apologize that this next installment took longer than I had intended to finish. Classes are getting ready to start up again so I've been preparing for college. So please enjoy this next chapter!

DISCLAIMER: Jake Mallard, Ava Blackfeather, Agent Holsclaw, and Derek Anderson are © me. The Darkwing Duck universe and it's canon characters are © Disney. There's no way I'm making any profit off of this story, so please don't sue.

**CHAPTER 8**

I never attempted to return to my old life. Not only would SHUSH kill me if I tried to escape, but I had nothing to left to go back to. I had no purpose in the past. But at SHUSH, I did.

My first year of training at SHUSH as a recruit was a non-stop cycle of physical and verbal abuse. Routines were strict and constantly monitored by supervising agents. Just before dawn, the shrill sound of the alarm would sound through the recruit barracks, beginning the day with a five mile run. Anyone who showed up seconds late would have extra miles added onto their grueling morning workout.

After the run, the recruits practiced the strict SHUSH physical regime until noon. After the hour-long lunch period, the remainder of the day was spent in instruction on SHUSH protocol, forensic sciences, and other knowledge we would put to use over the years.

That first year was constant torment and discipline. I noticed myself changing in more ways than one. My physique was chiseled and toned to an attractive perfection. My voice developed into a low, resentful growl. My brows were always narrowed over my eyes in an angry glare and my temper was hotter than ever. I had become a different person.

It only took that first year for me to progress from a recruit to a cadet and gain the slightest bit of respect from the agents above me. I was no longer reprimanded for the tiniest wrinkle in my attire or standing at the slightest angle. I could now speak to the other cadets around me without being assigned latrine duty.

In my past experience with my enterprise, I knew how to work hard to get what I wanted. And I wanted to become an agent. Fast. I despised taking orders from anyone, especially those who I believed to be less competent than myself.

Every recruit and cadet at SHUSH had been acquired in ways similar to my own recruitment. Most had suffered a devastating loss in their lives or were criminals on the run. I was both. We were filled with regret, sorrow, and hate. And we were being trained to become SHUSH's devious soldiers to prey on the innocent society.

I quickly became the talk of SHUSH due to my successful progress and rebellious nature against my superiors. Director J. Gander Hooter, who was still fairly new to his position as Director, was keeping his eyes on me with the anticipation on what I would accomplish next.

But I had my eyes on the position of Chief Agent. Currently, the position was held by a young bull named Taurus Bulba. From what I'd seen, he was a surprisingly timid for his massive size. He was a slave to the rules and regulations of SHUSH procedure, which was no doubt why he held his position. I was determined to give SHUSH a new chief agent that they, not to mention myself, could benefit from.

Night after night, while I slept in my bunk in the barracks, my dreams were plagued by horrendous nightmares. Nightmares of the night I lost my family, my stepfather, my early childhood. Each time I woke up in a cold sweat, my eyes darting around nervously to find myself in the dark, silent room with the other cadets sleeping silently in their own beds.

SHUSH gave me another chance at having a purpose, even if it wasn't a legitimate purpose on the right side of the law. But after my crime, I had become a felon. There were very few options left for me and SHUSH was the best choice. As far as they were concerned, I belonged to them. I was dedicating my life to their organization. And I was late.

A missing pair of socks from my cadet uniform delayed me by two minutes that morning. Everyone else was already lined up outside while I tried to pull on a spare pair of socks and stumbled out the door.

Agent Holsclaw, the agent in charge of training the cadets, was already barking out his orders to the line of men standing at attention before him. A medium-height eagle with a strong build, he was notorious for being the most merciless trainer at SHUSH. His fierce golden eyes glinted whenever he recognized the opportunity to torment any of his cadets. While he walked his way down the line, I took the opportunity to inconspicuously slip into rank at the opposite end.

"Wow, the one and only Jake Mallard actually late for roll call? Hell must've frozen over," the taller mallard cadet to my left muttered quietly in my direction.

"I know it was you who swiped my socks again, Anderson," I sneered back, keeping my strict gaze forward. "I'll compliment you for it in The Ring later."

The Ring was the boxing ring in SHUSH's sports complex. Cadets were granted the privilege of a two hour recreational period before lunch. Derek Anderson was the closet thing to a 'friend' I had at SHUSH. He was originally in prison for, believe it or not, larceny and motor vehicle theft. That is, until SHUSH bailed him out and recruited him for his useful skills. We actively socialized, even though it was discouraged at the organization. But I didn't pass up the opportunity to pummel him, either.

"What makes you think it was me?" he asked with a guilty smirk on his bill.

My eyes panned down to where 'his' socks were barely visible between his shoes and slacks. Getting my answer, I turned my head to glare accusingly at him. "You're a moron."

"Mallard! Anderson!"

We inhaled sharply and straightened our posture. I could see the broad figure of Holsclaw approaching from the left. He stopped directly in front of me, and I could see that glint in his eyes.

"Well, well. I never thought we'd see the day when Mallard would be late," he said, his voice loud enough for every cadet in ranks could hear. But he looked more amused than angry and took his time prodding at my unexpected tardiness. "You obviously have some work to do before you can become that 'perfect agent.' That's going to be an extra mile for you today, Mallard."

As Holsclaw began to retreat back down the line, I scoffed and rolled my eyes in my rebellious demeanor. "Oh, anything but exercise, Agent Dullclaw…" I muttered sarcastically.

The few cadets around me within hearing distance struggled to contain their snickers. But Holsclaw's keen hearing had caught my insult. He spun around, his fierce eyes narrowed to shoot a glare in my direction.

"Make that two miles, Cadet!"

I wouldn't be disciplined so easily. "Is that the best you can do, 'Agent?'"

Holsclaw approached me again. He stood with his sharp, pointed beak just inches from my bill while I glared defiantly into his eyes.

Forty-five minutes later, I was finishing the final lap of my accumulated eight miles. I was determined to hold up my defiant reputation at SHUSH, even if it meant a few extra miles.

Shortly after, I was in in the recreational gym with Anderson in the boxing ring as promised, clad in a pair of shorts and a tank top.

"Man, Jake. That was quite a show," he commented as he threw a punch at my head with his gloved hands and missed. "Holsclaw really showed you out there!"

"HE showed ME? _I_ showed him!" I corrected and dodged another one of Anderson's blows. "I wasn't about to be submissive because of his threats of discipline!"

Anderson lowered his arms and stepped back from me. A smug smile appeared on his bill. "So that's why you finally stopped arguing at only eight miles?"

I snarled and jabbed one of my fists forward, which he ducked away from with a laugh. Before he could recover, I struck at him again, missing him by only centimeters.

"Whoa! Jake, it was only a joke!" he pleaded, ducking another one of my aggressive jabs.

Then Anderson's attention was suddenly focused behind me instead of on me, and finally, one of my punches slammed him directly in the jaw. He went somersaulting backwards and came to a landing on his back with a painful groan.

"Ha! Well, I'm laughing now," I said triumphantly.

Anderson slowly sat up, rubbing his sore jaw. "Hey, that was a cheap shot! I was distracted!" he argued with an accusing scowl.

I scoffed and folded my arms over my chest. "Oh yeah? By what?"

"By HER," he answered and pointed behind me.

I turned around and followed the direction he was indicating. Not far across the gym was a lean, female mallard aggressively attacking a punching back with her fists and legs. She had white feathers and her medium-length black hair was pulled back in a ponytail to show off her attractive profile. She appeared to be in her early 30's, although her age could be questionable from such a distance across the gym.

Like most 'career fields,' women were not common at SHUSH during the 70's. Not only were there very few women who had nothing to lose with SHUSH, but most who were sought out by the organization wouldn't pass the torturous initiation. And the very few that were recruited were noticed everywhere they went in the facility.

She was completely oblivious to the dozens of male eyes watching her; or she just didn't care. Either way, she was the current center of attention to almost every cadet in the gym.

"Is that the best excuse you can come up with for getting your tail kicked?" I smirked at Anderson as he got to his feet and came up beside me. "Give me a break."

"I wonder who she is," he asked aloud, ignoring my insult. "I haven't seen her before."

I shrugged carelessly as I pulled the boxing gloves from my hands. "She must've been in a different rank as a recruit."

"Uh huh," Anderson absently agreed. His stared was still fixated forward at the young woman.

Noticing his sudden change of behavior, I raised an eyebrow at him and tossed my gloves aside. I gave him a hard slap on the back to snap him out of whatever disgusting daydream he'd might be having. "Give it up, Derek. You both have more important things to worry about. Not to mention she's a woman and will give you nothing but trouble."

I began to walk away and Anderson spun around. "But she's not just any woman, Jake! She's beautiful, and strong, and…"

"Only been known to you for two minutes," I finished matter-of-factly. "You don't even know her name so just forget it! Besides, you wouldn't stand a chance with her, anyway," I added insultingly and continued to walk away.

I heard Anderson growl loudly from behind me before he lunged forward and slammed into me. With a yelp, we both went tumbling to the floor of the ring. Our grunts and growls could be heard throughout the gym as he fought one another to get the upper hand like a pair of schoolboys on the playground.

Just as I was pressing my knee into Anderson's back and yanking his arms behind him, forcing his face into the hard floor, the female agent walked past. She stopped and turned her head to stare at us with wondering hazel eyes. We both froze and stared back at her with surprised expressions. Several seconds passed before she turned and continued on her way as if she hadn't seen anything.

Once she was gone, I let go of Anderson. He thanked forward to the ground with a painful grunt. I didn't say a word as I stood up and literally walked over him to leave.

"Ouch…" he muttered into the floor.

That wouldn't be the last I saw of her. In fact, we crossed paths just a week later in the same place. Anderson and I were making our way to the locker room to shower after our recreational period.

"Her name is Ava," he randomly informed me.

I gave him a questionable expression. "Who?"

Anderson scowled, believing that I was being coy. "You know, HER. I found out her name is Ava, Ava Blackfeather," he continued and swooned listlessly.

"Oh, brother," I groaned and slapped my forehead. "Knock it off, you're embarrassing me."

"Come on, Jake. Loosen up a bit!" he urged me with a playful shove to my shoulder. "How often do we see actual WOMEN here, huh?"

My sarcasm was smooth and hard to detect. "I dunno. Some of you saps have me wondering."

Either the insult flew right over Anderson's head, or he ignored me. "I think I'm going to do it. I'm going to ask her out on a date."

"Have you even said one word to her yet?" I asked to intentionally burst his bubble.

"Well, no. But I…! I mean, no," he said and his shoulders slumped as we continued across the gym.

I just chuckled and shook my head. "Give it up, my friend! You'd be wasting your time, anyway. She's a woman; therefore she won't last here much longer."

"Is that so?" a strong but feminine voice chimed in from the right.

We both stopped and turned our heads. The female cadet now known as 'Ava' stood with her arms folded over her chest and a dark scowl on her face. She was dressed in a pair of yoga slacks and a tight, flattering tank top, prepared for her daily routine in the gym.

"Are all men around here so shallow and arrogant as you?" Ava asked as she shot me a look that could split nails.

With a smug smirk, I turned to fully face her. "Are you women always so quick to criticize a man for speaking the truth?"

She scoffed at me, unimpressed. "Nice. Arrogant AND an asshole. I can't wait to prove guys like you wrong."

"Give me a break, sweetheart," I said and stepped towards her. Anderson stayed where he was standing, his eyes locked onto Ava. "You really think you can make it at SHUSH? You're running with a crowd of hardened criminals. What was your crime? Operating a hairdryer without a license?"

A small group of cadets that had gathered around us to watch the confrontation erupted into laughter. But Ava didn't even so much as flinch. Her cold eyes just glared back into mine.

"You won't find such immature wordplay so amusing when I rise in rank more swiftly than YOU," she shot back at me.

There was a unison of sarcastic "Oooo's" from the group around us. I raised my eyebrow at her, somewhat impressed by her feisty attitude. "Is that a threat."

"No, it's a promise," Ava corrected confidently. "In fact, I bet I could take you on right now. Right here."

"You've got to be kidding me," I sneered insultingly. "You really think you can fight against me? And WIN?"

A devious smile crept across her bill. "Don't tell me you're scared. Or is your ego as shallow as your arrogance?"

Hollers and whoops arose from the cadets around me, urging me to accept the challenge. The hearty pats they began giving me on the back further boosted my ego and I grinned at Ava.

"Alright, little girl. Show me what you've got."

"I intend to, 'little boy,'" she retaliated as we made our way to a floor mat in the center of the gym with our audience in tow. The group was growing larger with curious onlookers as they circled around the mat to watch.

While she tucked a few stray strands of black hair behind her ear, I intentionally cracked my knuckles to prepare myself. Ava spread her legs and crouched low to the ground, rocking back and forth to ready her movements.

I took my own readied position and narrowed me eyes at her. "Ready when you are, babe."

"Ladies first," Ava sneered back at me.

Several of the cadets guffawed and tried to suppress their snickers. I growled lowly, annoyed by her witty demeanor. Slowly, I began to circled around her to one side. She reacted by moving in the opposite direction, keeping 180 degrees between us.

Finally, she made the first move. Ava lunged at me with a swing of her fist. But I was expecting such a move and snatched her wrist out of the air. I yanked her to the side and pulled her arm behind her back at a restricting angle. She grunted and let out an agitated growl.

"Not off to a good start, eh?" I hissed mockingly into her ear over the chatter of the crowd around us.

"No," she answered calmly. Her foot came up and she slammed her sneaker forcefully down on my right foot.

"YEEOW!" I howled and instinctively let her go.

She leapt away from me and passed me a triumphant smile. "I'm off to a GREAT start."

I cradled my pounding foot before facing her again. We were taught at SHUSH never to underestimate an opponent, and I had already done that within the first ten seconds. I ignored the jeering laughs around me and concentrated of scrutinizing Ava's every move.

We moved closer to one another, every muscle tense with the anticipation of who would move first. Then, she struck. Her foot sliced through the air towards my head so quickly that I almost didn't react. But I retaliated by grabbing her outstretched leg around her ankle and yanked her off balance. Ava flipped around in mid-air and crashed to the mat on her face with a yelp.

"You were saying?" I laughed mockingly. Stepping over her, I made my way to the sidelines where my fellow cadets congratulated me with cheers and pats on the shoulder. "See? What did I tell ya? She's nothing but a dainty little…GACK!"

While I had been distracted, Ava came up behind me and leapt onto my back with a murderous yell. Her slender but strong arms crossed in front of my neck, making me gag and stumble backwards.

"YOU were saying?" Ava snarled into my ear. She may have been petite but she was definitely strong and proving to be a difficult challenge. "Who's the 'dainty little girl' NOW?"

I growled loudly and tried to pry her arms from around my neck before I would pass out. When I felt her feet planted on the mat once more, I jumped into the air and landed one my feet with all my force. I leaned forward with the momentum and ultimately sent Ava sailing over my head. She landed hard on her back but instantly back on her feet again.

"You'll see, dollface! You'll have nothing but a desk job as a paper pusher!" I spat insultingly in her direction between my pants for breath.

Ava backed up several feet. Her threatening eyes pierced mine with a dangerous gleam. I braced myself for what I knew was coming. And then she charged at me with her head low like a tiger. She slammed into my abdomen with enough power to force the air out of my lungs. But I kept my bearings. I wrapped my arms around her waist and lifted her off of her feet into the air. She was now upside-down as I held onto her waist. Feeling gravity beginning to overpower me, I let myself fall backwards and brought Ava crashing down with me. We hit the mat at such an angle that I landed effortlessly. But I had slammed her against the mat at the last second. She gasped loudly as her breath was blown out of her.

Everyone around us cheered in my triumph as I shakily got to my feet. But I was quick to regain myself and grinned smugly. Ava still lay on her back, staring with wide eyes at the ceiling while she struggled to regain her breath in heaving gasps. I stepped in front of her and smirked down at her.

"Nice try, sweetheart. Get used to looking up at others and looking up at ME."

I didn't see it coming. Her leg jolted up from the floor and her foot struck me with all her might in my exposed groin. The stinging tears sprang to my eyes and I wheezed a painful groan. My hands shot downward to cradle between my legs and I squeezed my eyes shut as I collapsed to my knees in pain.

"Ooooo….!" the unified moan of pain came from the crowd.

I toppled over on the mat in pain beside Ava, curled up in a fetal position. I opened my eyes and glared hatefully at her, gritting my teeth. She returned the look, but with a bit of pride.

"I HATE you…" I squeaked weakly.

I would never live that day down. Everyone at SHUSH made sure to go out of their way to remind me of how I got my tail feathers kicked by a woman that I had belittled. Ironically, Ava and I didn't cross paths until weeks later.

My initiation to become an official agent of SHUSH was only a week away. Until then, I was spending every spare moment preparing for the exams and tests I'd be required to pass beforehand.

One afternoon, I was at the firing range in the outdoor SHUSH yard. The sharp sound of rapid gunfire and the smell of discharged smoke filled the air. I stood in the horizontal line of cadets with my firearm clenched tightly in my hands for a steady aim. I emptied my magazine at the target 100 feet away. When I fired my last shot, I lowered my gun to observe the damage on the target. I grinned, satisfied, seeing most of my shots had made it inside the red bulls-eye.

Suddenly, the person beside me fired a shot at my target, directly hitting the center of the bulls-eye. My eyes widened and I snapped my head to the side to see who it was.

"Looks like you'll have no problem with the firearms section of your initiation next week," Ava said. She lowered her gun and passed me a very non-threatening smile.

But I didn't return the gesture. Instead, I glared grudgingly back at her, the event in the gym weeks ago still fresh in my mind.

Ava raised an eyebrow at me, bewildered by my immature behavior. She sighed and shook her head. "You're still upset over out little 'wrestling match?' You shouldn't take it so personally."

"It was humiliating," I shot back, clearly ignoring her last statement. I turned my back on her to re-load my handgun with a new magazine.

"Humiliating?" Ava repeated. She scoffed snidely, "You mean because a woman was actually a CHALLENGE for you?"

I sneered and jammed the clip into place. "No. Because half of the recruits witnessed it! I can't get from one place to another around here without someone giving me some insulting remark!"

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Oh, come on, Mallard. If you ask me, you could do with a little humiliation! Besides, it's not as if you always get your tail kicked by women. I'm just extraordinary compared to all the others," he finished with a proud grin.

"Pah. No kidding," I muttered and lifted my gun again to fire off three quick shots at the target.

Again, Ava sighed impatiently. "Look, Mallard. I'm being initiated, too. We're going to be seeing a lot of one another in the near future. I'm trying to suggest a truce and be civil."

I paused my firing to pass her a suspicious glance.

"And I'm sure the other cadets and recruits will stop picking on you," she added playfully and winked.

A light laugh escaped my bill, accompanied by a small smile. "Alright, fine. My reputation can't afford another negative run-in with you….And neither can my groin…"

From that point on, I would surely see a lot more of Ava, in more ways than one.

Thanks for being patient with this update. Please review!


	9. Mission Possible

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Finally, here is chapter nine. Unfortunately, this will be the last update for a while. College has started and I'm going to be swamped this semester. I'll work on what I can but it won't be much. Thanks to everyone who keeps coming back to read.

TO MY PAST REVIEWERS: Well, I haven't received any reviews for quite a while not and it's a little discouraging. That won't stop me from writing when I can, but I really love getting comments. So please, don't be too shy to hit that review button! And to those who have reviewed in the past, thank you very much, I'm very appreciative!

DISCLAIMER: Jake Mallard and Ava Blackfeather are © me. J. Gander Hooter is © Disney. This story was not written for profitable purposes so please don't sue me.

**CHAPTER 9**

"Congratulations, Agent Mallard."

J. Gander smiled jubilantly and congratulated me by shaking my hand. He then passed me a shiny, gold badge with the SHUSH shield engraved on it's face and my identification number beneath.

"Thank you, sir," I responded with a nod.

The gander's face hardened and his expression grew serious. "DON'T disappoint me," he warned and he continued down the row of cadets to finish handing out their badges. I slipped the symbol of my new life into the inside pocket of my black suit jacket.

A lot changed after that transition. I was now an agent instead of a lower-class cadet and I demanded respect from everyone below me. No longer did I have to reside at SHUSH. Now I was able to move into my own place in St. Canard and have my very own agency vehicle. And to top it off, I received my very own office in SHUSH headquarters.

I was assigned the position of special agent in charge of the Artillery and Weaponry Division. My extensive knowledge on firearms and weapons from past years with my business contributed to that decision by J. Gander Hooter.

After the ceremony, I was chatting off to the side with some of my cohorts when I heard the familiar voice from behind me.

"Well, you made it, _Agent_ Mallard."

I turned around and grinned smugly back at Ava. She was dressed in a skirted suit and had also graduated from the academy that day.

"As if there were ever a doubt," I replied conceitedly.

Ava laughed and shook her head. After a short pause, she tilted her head. "So, agent in charge of the AWD?"

"Yes, and I'd be lying if I said I was disappointed," I said truthfully. By that point, the group around us had dispersed, leaving just the two of us. "And where did they end up sticking you?"

"Oh, leading agent of the EED," she sighed as if it meant nothing to her. But I could see through her act. I knew she had been waiting to emphasize 'leading agent' to me and every other man at SHUSH.

I nodded in approval while we made our way towards the exit of the ceremony hall. "Entry and Escape Division? Impressive."

Ava stepped outside behind me into the piercing rays of the afternoon sun. "I thought so, too. I just hope you boys won't feel too threatened by having a girl running in your crowd," she smirked, her cocky attitude challenging my own.

"As much as I'd like to send one of my own witty remarks back at you," I said and stopped momentarily to face her. "I've got to get home and finish unpacking."

She snickered from behind me as I continued my way towards the SHUSH parking lot. "Good luck with everything, Mallard!" she called after me with snide emphasis.

"You're the one who's going to need luck, Dollface!" I shouted back without giving her another glance.

My step had acquired a proud bounce that day. A successful grin spread across my bill as I reached into the jacket of my suit to retrieve the keys to the new vehicle provided to me by SHUSH. The new, shiny black BMW waited for me at the edge of the lot. Even though it wasn't my beloved Aston Martin, I was pleased to know I would still be driving in style and comfort.

A short time later, I arrived at the apartment building that I now called my home. I took the elevator to the seventh floor of the 21-story building where my apartment was located. The place wasn't the greatest option in the city but it had a touch of class. It would have to do until my pay at SHUSH as an agent would take effect.

I slid my key into the lock and stepped inside my apartment. Flipping the switch on the wall, the room was flooded with light. There wasn't much inside so far. In fact, many of the boxes with my essentials were still sitting in the middle of the floor, waiting patiently to be unpacked. I had a kitchen, a small dining room, a living room, a bathroom, all of the basics that I would need. The bedroom was spacious and even had a balcony that lead to a beautiful view of St. Canard.

But I knew that I wouldn't be spending much time at home. My job at SHUSH was my main priority and it was going to require nearly all of my time. I tossed my keys on the table near the door and pulled off my suit jacket to hang it up on the coat rack. I loosened the tie around my neck while I trudged across the room and collapsed onto the couch with a relaxing sigh. Once more, I ignored the chore of getting the inside of my apartment in order and instead, I stared up at the ceiling.

Things had changed in ways I never would have imagined within the past two years. I was thirty-five years old and already living a second life after my first that had failed. Every night, I would lie awake and think of Abigail. And miss her. And I constantly wondered what my son might have grown up to be if I hadn't shattered the possibilities. I used to hope he would grow up to be like me. But seeing what I had become, I no longer had those hopes.

The first few months as an agent were dull and rather uneventful. My job required a lot of supervising and instructing in the Artillery and Weapons Department. To be completely honest, it was quickly beginning to bore me. That is, until J. Gander Hooter requested to see me in his office.

"Agent Mallard, we have a matter of the utmost importance on our hands and you're just the duck for the job," J. Gander explained from behind his large desk. "Our Intelligence Division has come into knowledge that FOWL, The Friendly Organization for World Love, has recently completed the construction of a new weapon. We suspect their intent is to use it in defense against us."

FOWL. Our biggest rival. While SHUSH tried to keep a firm, ruling hold on the city through force and power, the Friendly Organization for World Love fought against us to keep the city safe and secure.

"And what, exactly, does this 'weapon' do?" I asked curiously, not moving from my position in front of his desk.

"That's _your_ job to find out, Agent," he answered matter-of-factly. "You are to go to FOWL, steal that invention before they can use it against us, and bring it back here for analysis."

My eyebrow arched in confusion. "_I'm_ going to FOWL to retrieve this weapon? But sir, granted that I have the extensive knowledge in that area, I'm not a 'breaking and entering' man!" I pointed out.

J. Gander just smiled calmly back at me. "Of course you're not. I'm not sending you out on this mission on your own. I have the perfect partner who can get you both inside effortlessly."

"Who?"

On cue, the door to J. Gander's office opened behind me. I turned my head and my eyes shot open. "YOU?"

Ava stood in the doorway and paused to give me a dirty look before stepping inside. "Believe me, I'm as overjoyed as you are," she replied, her voice thick with sarcasm.

"You and Agent Blackfeather will enter FOWL undetected on your own," J. Gander explained while ignoring my disbelief. "The less agents on the job, the better."

But I remained reluctant. "With all do respect, sir, I can handle this case _without _the assistance of Agent Blackfeather!" I argued, but I only came off as whining. Ava passed me an icy stare out of the corner of her eyes.

"Nonsense. Getting past FOWL's security will prove to be most difficult and very dangerous. That is not your area of expertise while Agent Blackfeather possesses extensive knowledge in the department," J. Gander pointed out.

"But--!"

"I don't doubt that the two of you will be successful on the case," J. Gander cut me off. "You two are dismissed to put this mission in motion immediately."

I clenched my hands into fists and bared my teeth. A low growl rumbled in my throat while Ava just smirked snidely at me.

A short time later, I was driving my BMW with Ava sitting in the passenger seat. The FOWL headquarters was located outside of St. Canard and we were making our way through town.

"Believe me, I tried that whole babble thing on Director Hooter to have a different partner, too," Ava said begrudgingly.

I just stared forward at the road ahead of me. My fingers tapped repeatedly on the steering wheel and my eyes were narrowed in a spiteful glare. The fact that I had to have a female partner on my first big mission wasn't the main factor of my aggravation. It was the fact that I had to have a partner at all. I had always been used to handling things on my own without the help from another person. Ava being that 'other person' in this situation was the icing on the cake.

Since we had left SHUSH, I hadn't said a word to her. My silence was beginning to bother her.

"Look, Mallard. If we're going into a fatal situation, stop acting like a stubborn five-year old and let's at least be civil with some civil conversation, which could prove to be our _last_!" she suggested impatiently.

"Fine!" I snapped.

"Fine!" she shot back.

A long, uneasy silence filled the car. The only noise was the sound of the humming engine and the passing traffic. Both of our gazes where fixed forward, avoiding eye contact with one another.

Finally, I cleared my throat and spoke without looking at her. "So, are you originally from St. Canard?"

"No. I grew up and lived in Duckburg until I came here. You?"

"I've been here for most of my life," I answered. There was another period of silence. Ava coughed distractedly and we came to a stop at a red light. "How did SHUSH reel you in?" I asked, honestly a bit curious.

"I was arrested and imprison back in Duckburg for burglary," Ava said. I was able to catch a glimpse of a proud smile cross her bill. "I was one of the city's top cat burglars until I was finally caught. SHUSH posted me on bail and they brought me here with their proposition."

A resentful scoff escaped me bill. Luckily, Ava didn't notice. Compared to my painful initiation into SHUSH, the offer she was given sounded like executive treatment. And it made me silently gnash my teeth.

Ava finally turned her head to look at me. She leaned against the door and tilted her head curiously. "What about you? What was your crime?"

"Murder."

My answer was simple. I didn't want to go into details.

"Murder, huh? There's not many of you around SHUSH," she pointed out.

"I've noticed."

The traffic light turned green and we continued through the city. I was quick to re-direct the focus away from me. "Cat burglar? I bet the family wasn't too happy about that."

Ava scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You'd probably be right if they were still around. My parents died in a car accident when I was eighteen. I was never married and have no kids, so there isn't really anyone to disappoint." She hesitated before letting out an amused laugh and smiled. "Guess that just makes things easier, huh?"

I didn't answer. My eyes shifted to the side to cast her a quick glance before returning them to the road.

"So what about you? Any family?" she asked gently, knowing that it was a sensitive subject for anyone at SHUSH who had to leave family behind.

"No."

Again, my answer was short and lacked emotion.

She raised an eyebrow suspiciously at the gold band around the middle finger of my left hand. "You're wearing a wedding ring."

"My wife is deceased. She and my son were killed two years ago." My voice was cold and unfaltering, but it was just a mask to the remorse and guilt I could feel welling up inside me. My hands tensed around the steering wheel, waiting to see if she would put the facts together and conclude that _I_ was the culprit.

Instead, Ava flinched and frowned shamefully. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up."

"Right."

Neither of us said another word until we reached our destination. The massive FOWL facility came into view. I drove the car to a sheltered lot not far from the base. We got out and began to approach FOWL Headquarters but stopped a hundred yards away.

"So, what do you propose is the best way of getting inside?" I asked Ava. My voice was still a bit snide towards her.

"Through the back. That's where there will be the least security," she answered immediately as if it were an obvious answer. She glanced down at the watch around her wrist. "I did my research on this FOWL facility. They rotate their guards every four hours and they're due to switch off in ten minutes. That's the best time to get inside."

Surprisingly, I didn't argue. As much as I hated the fact that it was her idea, I knew it was the most plausible way to get inside without being caught.

Moments later, we were both cautiously peering around the corner of the building to where the back entrance was being guarded by two FOWL agents. Back in the 70's, the highest form of security were personnel and a few surveillance cameras. High-tech security was barely beginning to develop and all we had to worry about were the two guards standing in our way.

"How much longer?" I whispered eagerly while keeping my eyes sharp for any sudden bystanders.

Just as Ava opened her bill to reply, the security door opened from behind the two guards. Two more FOWL agents stepped outside, mumbled a few words to one another, and exchange positions.

Once the previous agents disappeared inside, I looked expectantly at her. "So, now what?"

"We need to distract them long enough so that you can inconspicuously take them out," Ava answered quietly. "That door requires clearance. We need their keys to get inside."

"Great. So how do we do that, Miss Know-It-All?"

Her brow furrowed in deep thought. Then her eyes suddenly lit up and she pulled out a small travel purse from her jacket.

I blinked in surprise and scoffed. "You've gotta be kidding me. This is no time to powder your nose!"

"Just shut up!" she hissed and continued searching. "I've got an idea."

Finally, Ava pulled out a small compact and opened it to reveal a small vanity mirror. "Just be ready to jump in there and do your thing," she said.

I then realized her plan. I nodded and braced myself. "Alright, do it."

Ava held the mirror in her hand and arched it at an angle around the corner towards the two agents. She continued to adjust the angle to align with the rays of the sun. At last, the angles aligned perfectly and one of the agents was suddenly blinded by a powerful flash. He let out a startled yelp and his hands shot up to shield his eyes. His comrade passed him a puzzled stare until he was suddenly blinded by another flash of light.

While they were temporarily blinded, I raced forward with the speed and agility of a jungle cat. I leapt at the closest guard and in a split second, I took a firm hold of his head and forcefully twisted it to one side. The snapping of his neck could be heard before he collapsed to the ground. The other guard was viciously rubbing his eyes to clear his vision. His eyes came into focus just in time to see my balled fist speeding towards him. He swayed backwards before thumping to the floor beside his unmoving partner.

I dusted off my hands with a proud smirk. Ava quickly came up behind me and nodded in approval.

"Not too bad," she complimented. Bending down, she began to rummage through one of the guards' uniform for the keys. Finally, she successfully withdrew a key ring and immediately went to the door. While she tried each key in search for the right one, I kept looking left and right on alert.

The third key Ava tried unlocked the heavy, steel door. Once the latch slid out of place, we both heaved the door open and quickly slipped inside.

"Alright, let's make this quick. Security makes rounds every half hour," Ava said and began to head in the direction of an empty hallway on the left.

But I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her in the opposite direction. "No, this way. I know where the science lab is."

She huffed and reluctantly followed. We cautiously snuck our way through the many corridors. Luckily, it was just after noon and most of the FOWL staff were on their lunch break. After five minutes of wandering, Ava was beginning to get doubtful.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" she whispered loudly to me. "What if we run into someone?"

"Just act casual. We're FOWL agents just like anyone else here." I knew it would work; the FOWL agents dressed similar to the black suited agents at SHUSH. "We're almost there. The lab should be right around this corner."

We turned the corner and both froze in our tracks. As I had claimed, the lab was just down the hall. But what I _wasn't_ expecting were the two guards standing outside the laboratory door. There was hesitation, but I was not about to give up so easily. I narrowed my eyes and continued down the hall towards the lab.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Ava whispered after me. But I didn't stop to reply. Seconds later, I heard her footsteps following behind me.

I stopped in front of the door being blocked by the two guards. They just gave me cold, expectant stares, waiting to hear my explanation.

"Step aside," I demanded confidently. "We're here to transport the new super secret weapon to our new high-security facility before we put it to use against SHUSH."

"Clearance?" one of the guards asked gruffly.

Ava handed me the keys which I held up for them to see. There was also a FOWL agent employee number engraved on the key ring. Seeing the keys, the two guards glanced at one another before stepping side.

I fumbled with the keys to find the right one. Luckily, the correct key was the first I selected. The door opened and the two of us stepped into the lab. Fortunately, there was no one else present in the lab at the time. Ava closed the door behind her and I began to search the various inventions and experiments scattered throughout the room.

"That was smooth," she remarked in reference to getting past the guards. I couldn't tell if she had been sarcastic or serious--I was too busy searching for what we came for. "Which one is it?"

The lab had what appeared to be several projects in the making strewn about. Many of them resembled guns while some looked like computer devices. I eyed a clipboard setting on the main table in the center of the room and snatched it up. Written on it were several charts and data sheets for each invention in progress.

I flipped through each page, scanning the print for what I was looking for based on the descriptions I was given by J. Gander. Just as I was about to give up, I found what I was looking for on the second to last page.

"A-ha," I concluded to myself. As I read the description, I walked across the lab until I came to the weapon. "It's this one."

The weapon was no bigger than a shoe box. There were two dials, a dozen buttons, and a reading screen on it's black face. When I set the clipboard down to pick it up, it weighed no more than six or seven pounds.

"That?" Ava asked. She sounded disgusted that we might have been sent on a life-threatening mission for something so simple. "That is the new 'secret weapon' FOWL plans to use against us?"

Hesitantly, I nodded. "Yes, this is it. I'm positive."

We both stared in utter disbelief for a long moment. Finally, Ava spoke up. "Let's just get it out of here and back to SHUSH."

With a nod, I carried the weapon under one arm and followed her towards the door. Calmly, we stepped out of the lab and I passed the guards a nod before Ava and I retreated down the hall in the direction we came.

"We did it. We pulled it off," Ava muttered to me with a sly smile.

I let out a low chuckle and grinned back at her. "Yeah, we did. We're home free."

But I had spoke too soon. As we continued down the hallway, we passed by two FOWL scientists in white lab coats. They gave us a curious stare as we passed and they continued on their way to the lab.

"We're here to pick up the super weapon for transportation," one of the scientists informed the guards and flashed them his identification card.

The two guards' eyes went wide and they stared at one another questionably. I heard their mumbling and paused to glance over my shoulder. The guard looked back at me and then pointed in our direction.

"Stop them! Enemy agents!"

Ava glared up at me. "You were saying?"

"Oh, just go!" I roared and shoved her forward.

We took off at a fast sprint around the corner in search of an exit. Only seconds passed before the shrill sound of an alarm rang throughout the headquarters. The device was tucked securely under my arm while I ran on Ava's heels.

"Which way?" Ava called over her shoulder as we neared a 'T' in the hallway. "Left?"

"Right!" I shouted back affirmatively.

But she misinterpreted me and took a sharp right.

"No! _Left_!"

Too late. I followed her to the left and we both skid to a stop. At the opposite end of the hall were half a dozen FOWL agents staring back at us.

I groaned and glowered down at her. "You are such a pinhead."

"Get them! Retrieve the weapon!" the lead agent shouted. The group of agents suddenly swarmed towards us.

Ava and I doubled back and raced in the opposite direction. At that point, neither of us had any idea of which direction to go in order to find a way out. I couldn't recollect with several of the enemy closely on our tails.

We rounded another corner. The shouts were growing louder behind us. If we didn't lose them for even a moment, there was no way we would find a way out. I sped in front of Ava but came to a sudden halt in front of a janitorial closet. Without a second thought, I snatched her by the wrist and yanked her inside the closet after me. I closed the door behind her and hissed at her to keep quiet. The closet was ridiculously small and dark. The only light was seeping in through the crack at the bottom of the door. Our eyes panned down to that horizontal stream of light to see the shadows of feet passing by.

"Keep going! They went in this direction, tell security to block off the east entries first!"

Gruff mumbling was followed by the stampede of footsteps growing fainter. I waited and listened to the silence for a moment before slowly opening the door only centimeters to peer out. Seeing no one in either direction, I swung the door open and looked back at Ava as she stumbled out behind me.

"If we don't make it out of here in one piece, I'm going to kill you," she snarled at me.

"Threaten me later," I muttered back distractedly while I glanced in every direction to regain my bearings. "They're blocking off the exits on the eats side first. We need to go this way."

Ava sighed in exasperation but she knew she had no choice to follow. Minutes passed. We had turned several corners and I quickly became discouraged. But finally, at the end of hall, a door crowned with an 'EXIT' sign came into view.

"There's our way out!" I announced excitedly.

"FINALLY," Ava sighed in relief.

We raced towards our door to freedom. Ava reached the door before I did and gave it a firm push. She grunted as the door resisted. "It's locked! We need the keys!"

I quickly fished for the keys with my free hand. Several seconds went by, which seemed like minutes. Finally, I found them and tossed them to Ava. "Hurry up and find the right one!"

She caught the keys and randomly picked a key to try first, which unfortunately failed. When she was on her third attempt, I could hear voices from around the corner at the end of the hall. They were coming closer and at a faster pace.

"Come on, hurry up!" I urged impatiently while looking over my shoulder.

"Patience is a virtue, so shut up!" Ava snapped back as she fumbled with another key.

"Yeah? Well, right now, I beg to differ!"

A larger group of FOWL agents rounded the corner and came to an abrupt stop. For a few seconds, I stared at them while they stared back in surprise.

"Now would be a good time to find the right key!" I suggested sarcastically to her.

"HALT!" the lead agent shouted at us.

I heard the jingling of the keys followed by a loud click before Ava shouted successfully, "I got it!"

"Shoot them!"

Several agents pulled out firearms from their utility belts and swiftly began to load them. The door clanged loudly as Ava pushed it open and leapt outside. I spun around and shouted after her, "Here! Catch!"

I tossed the weapon to her and she managed to catch it with a strained grunt. When it was in her hands, I turned my back to her and faced the agents. I reached into my jacket and retrieved my own gun, which had readily been loaded.

Ava stopped and stared after me with wide, puzzled eyes. "Jake! What are you doing? Come on!"

"Just go! I'll handle this!" I snarled.

She obeyed and sprinted away in the opposite direction. Just as I saw three or four guns being raised at me, I lifted my hand in the blink of an eye and repeatedly pulled the trigger of my gun. An explosion of gunfire echoed through the hallway. Leaning just inches to either side, I managed to dodge the first round of gunfire aimed at me. My aim was precise and every one of the three rounds I fired had hit a different agent. Three of the massive bodies crumpled to the floor and immediately received aid from their compatriots.

Believing I had achieved the distraction needed to make an escape, I turned to dart out the door.

BLAM!

I didn't notice an agent aim one last time at my back. I felt the sharp pain strike the back of my right shoulder. A sharp yelp escaped my bill but I managed to keep going and jump outside. With a strained grunt, I heaved the heavy door shut behind me. I broke out into a sprint in the direction of where the car was parked and where I hoped Ava was waiting.

When I slowed to a jog into the sheltered lot where my car was parked, I looked around and saw no sign of Ava around or inside the car. Had she been captured? I cursed under my breath and stressfully ran my fingers through the feathers on my head. The back of my shoulder was pounding from the gunshot wound.

Suddenly, through the window I saw a head of black hair pop up from the passenger seat. At first I gasped in surprise but then exhaled in relief. Ava urgently motioned with her hand for me and I swiftly made my way to the car. I grunted as I climbed into the driver's seat and immediately started the car.

"Are you crazy? What did you think you were doing?" she demanded angrily.

"Buying you the time you needed to get away with the weapon!" I exclaimed impatiently. I looked at her questionably. "Where is it?"

Ava reached into the back seat and picked up the device in her hands. "Here, see?" She waved in mockingly in front of my face before setting it down on the back seat again. "You could have been shot!"

I chuckled sheepishly. "Please. I'm WAY too clever for that to happen!"

She must have noticed the way I was trying to press the back of my bleeding right shoulder into the leather seat. Ava stared at me suspiciously before grabbing me by my wounded shoulder and forcing me to lean forward.

"OW!" I howled painfully.

A small portion of the back of my black jacket was damp with blood. She glared coldly at me and I avoided eye contact with her. "You _were_ shot! You're an imbecile, you know that? You could have been killed!" She paused before adding, "Not that I care for your well-being, but Director Hooter would have my badge if I came back without you!"

I smirked and smiled snidely at her. "Aw, how thoughtful of you to show your concern."

Her arms folded stubbornly over her chest and she sunk down in her seat. "Let's just get back to SHUSH."

With a snicker, I shifted the car into drive. We rolled out of the parking lot and out into the street, making our way back to base, successful.

A short time later, we arrived back at SHUSH. When the car was parked in the lot and the engine was shut off, I hissed and shifted my shoulder. The pain shooting through my arm was reminding me that I needed medical attention. Ava retrieved the weapon from the back seat and looked at me, noticing my discomfort.

"You go get that shoulder taken care of, Mallard. I'll take the device down to the lab," she reassured me.

I visibly cringed. I hated the idea of receiving medical attention. Not only was it a dent in my ego, but I hated doctors. But I reluctantly consented.

Barely half of an hour later, I was sitting on a table in the SHUSH medical ward with my shirt off while the medic finished stitching together my wound. I made the extra effort to keep my eyes averted as the needle repeatedly pierced my flesh until it was finally finished.

"Just the two of you went into FOWL and you escaped with only one battle scar?" the medic, Agent Sellers, asked and then chuckled with a shake of his head.

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. "Yeah, and 'Little Miss Charlie's Angel' got away without a scratch."

"Well, that's a female agent for you. They're afraid to get their hands dirty," he concluded as he snipped the thread to detach the needle.

I picked up my white dress shirt from the table and gently pulled it on over my shoulders. As I began to fastened the buttons in the front, the door to the room opened. I looked up to see Ava step inside.

"How is the wounded soldier?" she asked me with a light smile.

"I'll survive," I replied while I got to my feet and pulled on my jacket.

She nodded and her expression turned sincere. "You did good out there, Mallard. Go home and rest up, you deserve it."

I did a double take and raised an eyebrow at her. "What? I have a report to write and--"

"I'll report to J. Gander and make sure the weapon is cataloged," she interrupted reassuringly. I stared at her hesitantly and she laughed lightly. "Don't worry, I'll handle it."

I was reluctant to accept Ava's proposal. But after our mission, the idea of taking the rest of the day off to relax wasn't a bad one. "Alright, Blackfeather. I leave it in your hands to wrap this up."

In my black BMW, I was making my drive back to my apartment to retire for the evening. That day would be the first of many days in which I would be sent on a dangerous mission. And I loved it. The adrenaline I experienced while trying to find a way out of FOWL Headquarters was indescribable. The thrill of danger would be something I'd thirst for the rest of my life.

A red light brought me to a momentary stop in front of a large brick building to my right. Rapid, spontaneous movement behind the fences surrounding the building caught my attention. I turned my head to see the dozens of children running about the paved yard. Some were swinging on the monkeybars while others were busily bouncing a ball back and forth. The large iron sign arched over the building's entrance read 'St. Canard Orphanage.'

I returned my gaze to the traffic light to wait for the green signal, but a sight out of the corner of my eye brought me to do a double-take. One familiar child near the fence caught my attention. He appeared to be nine or ten years old and was sitting by himself on the pavement with his head lowered, a lonely frown on his face.

Immediately, I recognized the young boy. My breath was caught in my throat as I stared blankly in his direction. He must have sensed someone watching him. His head turned and he looked straight back at me. For a long moment, we stared at one another. I didn't know whether or not he recognized me behind my cold, unfeeling eyes.

The red light changed green and broke our gaze. Slowly, I tore my eyes away from his and redirected them to the road. As the car began to move forward again, I felt a great weight lifted off of my shoulders.

He was alive. Drake, my son, was still alive.


	10. Sleeping With the Enemy

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to everyone for being patient! The semester has been BUSY beyond belief and a lot has been going on in the past few weeks, including my 21st birthday on 9/11! So I haven't had much time to write. Chapter eleven has been started but I'm experiencing a writer's block and lack of available time. But finally, here it is, chapter ten! And be sure to check out DarkwingPsycho's fiction The Sins of the Father which features Jake's Normalverse counterpart, Jacob Mallard, who will be making an appearance in this fiction in later chapters.

TO PAST REVIEWERS: Thank you so much for your reviews and kind comments! They're what really keep me writing and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. I think you will. Please keep the reviews coming!

DISCLAIMER: Jake Mallard, Ava Blackfeather, Agent Anderson, and all other minor characters are © me. J. Gander Hooter is © Disney.

**CHAPTER 10**

I should have known better. I shouldn't have ignore the little voice in the back of my mind that was warning me not to trust Ava.

The following day, I returned to SHUSH, prepared for work and eagerly anticipating the congratulations I would receive from J. Gander Hooter in return for my successful mission. I sauntered my way inside the headquarters with a proud stride. Following my usual routine, the first stop I made that morning was to my office.

Ironically, I hadn't seen Ava yet that morning. Normally I'd pass by her on my way to the office. I should have taken that as a sign that something was amiss.

When I stepped into my office, there was the expected memo from J. Gander Hooter on my desk. The memo requested me to come to his office immediately. I grinned widely to myself as I turned on my heels and made my way out of the office. As I made my way towards Director Hooter's office, I knew that the previous day's success would be another step towards becoming SHUSH's next chief agent.

I arrived at the closed door of J. Gander's office. I adjusted my tie and smoothed back the feathers on my head. Taking a deep breath, I knocked, opened the door, and stuck my head inside.

J. Gander looked up from the mountain of paperwork on his desk. "Ah, Agent Mallard. Come in."

Obediently, I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. I moved forward and stopped in front of his desk at a respectful position. "You wanted to see me, Director Hooter? I assume it's about yesterday's successful mission?" I went out of my way to put emphasis on 'successful.'

"Your assumptions are correct," he responded and set aside the paperwork he had been studying. "First of all, congratulations. You and Agent Blackfeather successfully broke through FOWL forces and retrieved the weapon in question, which our lab has identified as their new dimension atomizer. Our labs are dissecting the atomizer so that we may put it to our own use."

I grinned with an air of cockiness. "Just doing my job the way it needs to be done, sir."

J. Gander laced his fingers together and leaned forward to give me his full attention. "I've read over Agent Blackfeather's report of the mission and I am most impressed with the accomplishments yesterday."

Once again, I smiled at the praise I was receiving. But I wasn't prepared for what I was about to hear next.

"Agent Blackfeather's work especially impressed me. Luckily, I followed my instincts to assign her to accompany you on this mission. Otherwise, you might not have made it out alive and we wouldn't have the atomizer in our possession. Her knowledge on the situation was most beneficial."

My smile instantly faded. I stared at J. Gander questionably. "Agent Blackfeather, sir?"

"She went into in-depth detail in her report about the difficulties the two of you encountered. The way she immediately located the lab in the vast facility and identified the weapon accurately were most impressive," he continued to explain with praise. "I also read about the wrong turn you took which led to you being wounded by enemy agents and nearly ended with the two of you being captured. You're lucky Agent Blackfeather is very decisive on her feet and talented with a firearm."

My bottom jaw fell open as I stared in disbelief at the words coming out of J. Gander's beak. Ava had written the report, just like she said she would. But she twisted the story of what had really happened into her own words to make a favorable impression of herself to Director Hooter! And in the meantime, she decided to go the extra mile to make me look like a helpless dunce!

"B-But Director Hooter! Sir, I have to protest, that wasn't what--!" I began to argue, but he had cut me off.

"I'm very happy with Agent Blackfeather's progress. I'm convinced that she will be the first woman to climb the ladder of potential here at SHUSH. In fact, after yesterday's mission, I'm considering putting the two of you on more future assignments with the promise of the same results."

My hands clenched into fists and I could feel the heat of anger rising to my face. I silently vowed to myself that I would make Ava pay for the humiliation she had just caused me.

After leaving J. Gander's office, I went in search of her. I roamed the hallways with my fiery eyes narrowed, searching for her familiar form. Fifteen minutes later, I still had not found her. I went to the SHUSH service desk and slammed my hands down on the desktop, startling the secretary on duty.

"Agent Blackfeather. Where is her office located?" I growled lowly.

The secretary quickly snatched a clipboard from the corner of the desk and began flipping through the pages. Her finger slid down the sheet and then stopped. "Agent Blackfeather is in office 213 in the East Wing, Agent Mallard."

"Office 213, eh?" I repeated and the secretary nodded affirmatively.

As I hastily turned to go in search of the office, the secretary urgently called after me, "Wait, Agent Mallard! She won't be there!"

I stopped and turned back around. "What?"

"She won't be there. Director Hooter gave her the day off."

"Oh, really?" I asked curiously with a raised eyebrow. I slowly swayed back towards the desk with a sly smile on my bill. "And would you happen to have her address on that form? It's for official business. I have some urgent paperwork to get to her..."

As soon as I was off duty that evening, it didn't take me long to arrive at Ava's apartment building. I parked my car and marched up the stairs to the floor she was located. The rage inside me was as strong as ever. Ava had more spirit and was more conniving than I had given her credit for. Normally, those were traits I admired and found attractive in a woman. But Ava had used those traits against me and made me look like a fool in front of my superiors.

Finally, I came to her closed apartment door and banged several times. I waited several seconds with my arms folded over my chest until the door opened. Ava stared at me calmly, as if my sudden visit wasn't out of the ordinary. Her hair was wet and she was dressed in a thigh-length robe; apparently, she had just finished showering.

"Agent Mallard? What brings you here?" she asked, feigning her curiosity. But I could see the devious sparkle in her eyes, knowing the real reason I was there.

"You know very well what brings me here," I accused bitterly.

I shoved my way past her and inside her apartment. She closed the door and turned around to face me. "What are you talking about?" she asked, continuing her charade.

When I spun around to glare at her, my bill curled into a snarl. "Don't play that stupid game with me! I gave you permission to write the report to give to J. Gander. I _didn't_ give you permission to make me look like a moron!"

"You don't need my help for that," Ava shot back in a silky voice as she folded her arms over her chest.

From a mirror on the wall, I noticed the feathers on my face turning an angry red as my patience wore thin. I stormed towards her, stopping with just a few feet of space between us, and pointed accusingly at her. "J. Gander told me everything. You wrote the report to make yourself look more reputable and degrading _my_ reputation."

Ava scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Get over it, Jake. This isn't kindergarten, this is a criminal agency. You can't even trust your own fellow agents at SHUSH. You should have known better."

"Alright. Then why?" I demanded, staring coldly into her eyes. "What was in it for you? Are you really so insecure about your abilities at SHUSH that you need to resort to sabotaging me to make yourself look good?"

Her eyes narrowed angrily at me. "You're not the only one who wants the position of Chief Agent, Mallard."

I suddenly burst out in cruel laughter. "_You!_ You honestly think you have what it takes to be SHUSH's chief agent?" My mocking laughter continued.

Now Ava was the one beginning to lose her patience. Her expression was cold and hard as she turned away and began to storm across the living room towards the kitchen. "I have more talent and ability than 'certain others'..."

Even though she had muttered, her words were still audible. I grew serious again and returned to my goal of settling this dispute in my favor. I darted across the room after her and grabbed her by the arm, forcing her to spin around and face me. Her eyes were wide with surprise as she stared up at me.

"You pull a stupid stunt like that again, I'll make you sorry that you ever joined SHUSH," I seethed threateningly at her.

Her shocked expression was quickly replaced with one of defiance. "Save your threats, Mallard. You don't scare me. You're just antagonized by the fact that I, a woman, am smarter than you and will soon be your boss."

I kept my firm grip on her arm. "Keep it up. If you continue to provoke me, I won't hesitate to keep that promise!"

Ava's muscles in her arms noticeably tensed. She growled dangerously at me, "Get your hands off of me, Mallard."

My hold didn't loosen in the slightest and I continued to push her patience. "Or else what?"

She struck with the speed of a cobra. Ava's free arm shot up with an open hand to strike my face. But I was just as quick. My free hand intercepted hers and clamped around her wrist. I held both of her arms helpless and craned my neck towards her, our bills just inches apart and our icy eyes bearing into the other's.

The smell of her shampoo wafted through my nostrils. We were so close that I could feel the breath being exhaled from her bill. She locked her eyes with mine for a long moment. Suddenly, our bills thrust forward and were locked in a fiery kiss. The spontaneous action of passion lasted what seemed like hours until we forcefully pulled our bills away from one another.

Ava glared at me, her words coming out in panting breaths. "You're despicable," she seethed spitefully.

"The feeling is mutual, sweetheart," I replied sarcastically between my own sharp breaths.

Before either of us could object, our bills were forced together again. My hands let go of her arms and clamped around her waist. Ava's hands tightly gripped my shoulders while she continued to repeatedly kiss me. I began to forcefully push her backwards until her back was pressed to the wall.

The kisses didn't stop. Her fingers eagerly began to undo the knot of my tie until she pulled it free and tossed it to the side. She continued to pull of my jacket and then ripped the white shirt from my body. I moaned contently while she firmly ran her fingers through the feathers on my chest.

My hands hurriedly began to untie the sash of Ava's robe. Once accomplished, I pulled the robe off of her slender shoulders and let it fall to the ground at her feet. With our bills still locked, my hands excitedly slid over her naked body. Her feathers were incredibly soft to the touch and her body possessed perfect, desirable curves.

While I gently caressed her bare breasts, she pulled her bill from mine to tilt her head downwards. My breaths were becoming labored while she busily tugged at my belt. Finally, she pulled it free. I leaned my head back with a pleasurable groan and closed my eyes, my arousal becoming stronger as I felt Ava pull my slacks down from around my waist. Her hands ran up my chest as she straightened up and I returned my gaze to hers.

She smiled wryly at me. "I always assumed your ego was compensating for something. Obviously, I was wrong," she whispered seductively into my ear.

The sinister tone in her voice made me shudder with desire. Years of suppressed longing for a woman were finally coming out and I couldn't hold myself back any longer. I pressed my bill to hers again and pressed my body against hers, pinning her to the wall. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders and clamped the feathers on my back tightly between her fingers. My left hand moved to her thigh and pulled her leg upwards around my waist.

Ava let out a desirable gasp as we engaged in our night of intense, fiery passion. The hostility we expressed towards each other earlier had become non-existent and our minds quickly became clouded with our lust. We soon moved into her quaint bedroom and continued our intimacy well into the late evening. That night, I didn't return to my apartment.

A storm had rolled over St. Canard. The rain poured heavily outside. Thunder boomed, accompanied with the occasional flash of lightning that illuminated the bedroom through the window. The quick bursts of light reflected off of our entwining bodies beneath the bedsheets.

The stormed lasted all night, even after our exotic escapade had come to an end. The hands on the nightstand clock read 1:28 AM. But I was not asleep. I listened to the rain fall outside while I lay on my side in her bed. Ava was fast asleep, laying on her side turned towards me. The expression on her delicate face was peaceful. My arm was draped tenderly around her waist as I watched her sleep, noticing every silent breath she took.

Years had gone by since I experienced an intimate relation. I missed having the warm body of a woman in bed beside me. There were times that night when I wondered if I had made a mistake; if I had let my bravado take control over my mind.

I stroked Ava's cheek, gently so she wouldn't wake. We both had made mistakes in our lives and we were both paying for those mistakes. It seemed so right for the both of us to try and heal our wounds together.

For months we continued our relations. At SHUSH, we were nothing more than associates. But when our shifts had ended, I found myself at her door and would wake up the following morning beside her. We agreed that going public with our relationship would be a foolish move. SHUSH strongly discouraged its agents of holding any sort of relationship outside of the work place. If romantic involvement between agents was discovered, the superiors would deal with the situation through means of strict and fierce disciplinary action. Ava and I went out of our way to remain undiscovered. There were few occasions when a rumor would be floating around headquarters about my involvement with Ava. But every rumor that surfaced was very short lived; I made sure of that. No one was able to bring forward any evidence.

During the next several months, the two of us were assigned more missions together, each one being successful. We continued to impress our superiors with our rapid progress. It was only a matter of time before one of us would become Chief Agent. Things were going great for me. I was beginning to wonder if they could get any better.

I had been returning to my office one day, a folder of analysis on the most recent weapons to come into SHUSH possession in my hand, when my old friend walked up beside me.

"Hey, Jake!" Derek Anderson exclaimed as he slapped me heartily on the back, causing me to reactively grunt. "I just saw the new stock you brought in the other day. Some pretty impressive stuff. I could use that Magnum rifle in my collection," he joked.

"Derek, only you could hide an unhealthy obsession under a snappy suit," I said to him, disinterested.

His smile fell into a childish frown. "Hey! I happen to think I look sharp in this suit!" he retorted. When he didn't receive a reply from me, he continued to follow alongside me. "Alright, Jake. Tell me what's going on. For months you've been mentally distracted and yet you've been excelling in your work."

There was a pause as I refused to answer. My personal life was something I preferred to keep locked away, hidden from everyone. On top of that, it was crucial to my career, and life, that I kept 'certain factors' of my personal life secret.

But Anderson jumped to the first conclusion that came to his mind. He jumped in front of me to block my path and accused excitedly, "Oh, it's a woman, isn't it?"

My eyes widened ever so slightly. But I refused to admit to his accusation and remained calm. "What? You're crazy."

"You're in denial!" he continued as I side-stepped around him and continued on my way. But Anderson kept on my heels. "Quit denying it, Jake. Come on, you can tell me!"

"There's nothing to tell!" I insisted and kept walking at a pace that wasn't suspicious.

"Oh yeah? What about _this_?"

Anderson grabbed the collar of my white shirt beneath my jacket, bringing me to a stop. He rubbed his thumb over a red, pastel-like smudge and raised a curious eyebrow at me. "I do hope this belongs to a lady and not you."

I scowled and pulled myself free from him, adjusting my collar to hide the smear of lipstick beneath my lapel. "So what if I'm seeing someone? It's nothing serious and it's not a big deal."

"You mean as long as J. Gander doesn't find out." He snickered and gave me a playful punch in the arm. "So? Who's the lucky lady? You can't keep that secret from _me_!"

"Keep it down!" I hissed my warning with a glower. "And it's none of your business! Just drop the subject."

Anderson pouted, defeated for the time being. "I WILL find out sooner or later, Jake. You'll see! You can't keep things like this from the best friend for very long!"

"Mallard, there you are."

The two of us turned our heads to see Ava approaching us. She possessed a professional stature in her skirted business suit, just like any other day. I remained calm and cool as she stopped in front of me.

"I just dropped off the reports from last week's mission at your office," she informed directly to me, ignoring Anderson's presence, "They require your signatures and then they can be given to Director Hooter. He needs them by the end of shift."

I nodded in reply. "I'll take care of it."

She returned the nod, the slightest smile playing on her bill. When she turned to walk away in the opposite direction, I must had been smiling wistfully, because Anderson took notice.

"Oh, my God. It's Agent Blackfeather."

I blinked out of my trance to stare at him, then shook my head. "Don't be insane."

"It's Ava? It's you and _Ava_!" he exclaimed louder.

"Shhh! Keep it down!" I hissed at him while my eyes darted back and forth to make sure no one else was present.

Strangely, Anderson was more excited about the subject than I had been. He grabbed me in a headlock and proceeded to give me a hard noogie on the top of my head. "You stud! The hottest piece of tail in SHUSH and you got her!"

"Alright, alright!" I growled and I struggled to free myself from his hold. "Let me go!"

Chuckling with amusement, he let me go and smiled snidely back at me. I scowled back at him, the feathers on my head frayed in a ridiculous mess.

"Relax, Jake. I won't spread your little secret. You can trust me," he promised me in a sincere voice.

"I know I can. Because if this gets out, I'll know where to find you and make you very sorry that you ever found out," I threatened lowly. Even though he laughed in return, I was serious, and he knew it.

"Yeah, yeah. I've got to get back to looking like I'm working but I'll see you at 1:00 this afternoon," Anderson said nonchalantly, assuming that I was aware of what he was talking about.

Unfortunately, I wasn't aware. I gave him a puzzled expression as I smoothed the feathers on my head back into place. "What's happening at 1:00?"

He tilted his head. "You didn't get the memo? J. Gander has called a meeting with his leading agents regarding an urgent matter."

"I see. Well then, I'll see you there."

When one o'clock rolled around, I was in SHUSH's main meeting room, sitting at the briefing table with the other leading agents. Anderson was in the seat next to me, Ava across the table and two chairs down. I was having a difficult time keeping my focus off of Ava and paying attention to J. Gander speaking at the head of the table.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have come across some disturbing information late yesterday evening," he began to inform us with a dissatisfied frown on his face. "It appears that we have a spy among us at SHUSH."

A few concerned mumbles passed between some of the agents.

"A spy? From where?" an agent asked.

J. Gander answered with a single nod. "We have reason to believe we have an enemy agent from FOWL among us. And it's most disturbing to believe that this spy could have been hiding in our ranks for months or even years."

"Any idea which department this spy could be operating in?" the agent sitting to my left asked.

"No. This agent could be anywhere among us. It's crucial to uncover this spy before anymore information can be exchanged with FOWL," J. Gander said grimly. "I'm counting on you, the best agents here at SHUSH, to expose the enemy spy as soon as possible. You're dismissed."

The dozen chairs screeched along the hard floor as I and my fellow agents pushed away from the table and got to our feet.

Before I began to make my way out of the briefing room, J. Gander's voice called from behind me. "Mallard? A word please?"

I nodded from across the room. While everyone was dispersing from the room, I edged my way through the crowd to where he was standing. "Yes, Director Hooter?"

"Jake, this spy breaking past our finest security greatly concerns me," he said in a low voice as the last of my fellow agents left the room. "I know he will be discovered eventually, but the sooner, the better."

"I understand, sir," I answered firmly, like a soldier answering his drill sergeant.

J. Gander began to gather his opened files on the table while he continued to converse with me. "Chief Agent Taurus Bulba has resigned. Apparently, his moral fiber became too tough to stay with the agency. The position for chief agent is now open."

My eyes flashed excitedly. I was one step closer to what I wanted. While I tried to contain my excitement and remain calm, he tucked the file under his arm and stared up at me sincerely.

"You're one of my finest agents, Mallard. That's not debatable. If you bring me this spy, the position is yours."

"I won't let you down, Director Hooter," I promised with professional confidence.

He gave me a slight smile before striding past me and out of the meeting room. I watched him disappear out the door and chuckled lowly to myself. With my bill in the air, I strutted out of the room, knowing that I would find this spy and unveil him to J. Gander in exchange for the promotion to chief agent. I had _better_ uncover the sky. I saw J. Gander's motive behind his offer. Even SHUSH's director trusted no one. IF anyone could find the spy, it was me. If I didn't find the spy, then it would be concluded that _I_ was the spy.

A startled grunt got caught in my throat as I slammed into a solid form outside the room.

"Omf!"

"D'ah! Oh, Ava," I greeted and adjusted my disshelved tie.

"Hello to you, too," Ava smirked up at me. "So, an enemy agent from FOWL. It's about time we got to see some more action around here. Think you can uncover this spy?"

"Yes, I do," I said in a conceited manner. "And J. Gander seems to believe so, too."

She snickered deviously at me. "You think so? Well, not if I find him first."

"Ha! We'll see about that!" I shot back at her. A large portion of our relationship consisted of competition towards one another, which kept us both on our feet. "Tonight after shift?"

"My place. Don't be late," Ava said with a wink. And as I walked past her to continue on with my shift, she took the opportunity to deliver a playful smack to my rear. I let out a startled gasp and scampered on my way down the hall with a light red hue rising to my face.

The day was going great for me. In fact, it was one of the best I'd had in a long time. Later in the afternoon, I followed up on the research being done on the dimensional atomizer, which would put me even higher on J. Gander's list. Before long, the atomizer would be ready for testing. SHUSH was altering the device for a different purpose than FOWL had intended. If research and alterations were successful, the atomizer would create a gateway passage to a parallel universe, giving us opportunity to acquire potential ideas and forces.

To end my day on a high point, I would rendezvous with Ava that evening. I took my usual path to her apartment in the high-rise building, discretely taking the stairs instead of the elevator located in the lobby. A man courting a woman and spending the evening together in her residence was frowned upon in 1970's society.

I knocked on her door and grinned slyly as she opened the door. She had changed out of her SHUSH uniform and was dressed in a simple but elegant red dress.

"Well, hello, Beautiful," I said and gently kissed the top of her hand in a charismatic manner.

Ava giggled and gave me a light swat over the head. "Oh, Jake. Cut it out and get in here!" she exclaimed as she grabbed me eagerly by the shoulders and yanked me inside.

I staggered inside and closed the door behind me. The lights throughout the apartment were dimmed to almost complete darkness. The majority of the light in the rooms was glowing from the dozens of lit candles scattered about.

"Well, well," I mused aloud while taking off my long coat and hanging it up in the closet. The setting was something I hadn't been expecting but it was a welcome surprise. "Someone went through a little extra trouble this evening."

"I was feeling a little playful and a bit more romantic this evening," Ava said, leaning towards the mirror on the wall to carefully apply her fire engine red lipstick. Once done, she sauntered towards me and slid her arms over my shoulders and around my neck. "This sort of setting quickly puts me in the mood."

"Oh? Is it working?" I asked with a menacing chuckle as I wrapped my arms tightly around her waist.

She smiled and nodded. "Mm-hmm."

My bill lowered and pressed against her own. What was meant to be a simple welcoming kiss turned into an exchange of rampant passion that lasted several minutes. I moaned and greedily pulled her body tightly against me

That would be the last night Ava and I would spend together. That would be the last night I would display any positive emotions for her. The following day, everything between us would change. And my life would change again.

The next day started out just like any other. The two of us lay besides one another beneath the silky sheets. Ava had awaken before I and woke me with a gentle kiss on the cheek. I groaned and furrowed my brows in protest before pulling the blanket tightly around my body. She sighed and clamped a hand over my shoulder to give me a firm nudge.

"Jake? Come on, get up. We're running late again. J. Gander might start getting suspicious."

But I replied with a stubborn grunt and pulled one of the pillows over my head. I was not ready to greet the day yet. Ava growled impatiently and gave me a light smack.

"Well, when you decide to get your tail out of bed, I'll be in the shower," she whispered seductively into my ear.

I felt the bed move as Ava climbed out and onto her feet. Her footsteps padded gently across the wooden floor and faded until she reached the adjoining bathroom. Seconds later, the sound of water running from the shower reached my ears. Sunlight began seeping through the blinds covering the window. The rays of light shone directly over my closed eyes, causing me to flinch in discomfort. I pulled the pillow tighter over my head and I was ready to stay in bed for the rest of the day. Until the telephone on the nightstand suddenly rang.

There was no chance of drifting off to sleep as the telephone rang repeatedly. Finally, I gave a defeated groan after the fourth ring and reached over to pluck the phone off of the receiver. I sat up and groggily muttered into the phone, "Hello?"

The only answer from the other end was a few concerned mumbles before a click and then the sound of a dead line. I raised an eyebrow and stared blankly at the phone before setting it back down on the nightstand without a second thought. I let out a yawn and stretched my arms over my head. Pushing the blankets aside, I planted my feet on the floor and stood up. Still half asleep, I trudged across the bedroom and silently made my way into the steamy bathroom. I couldn't go to SHUSH smelling like sex.

The outline of Ava's sleek yet curvy body was visible through the blanket of steam. I suddenly felt more awake. The water raining down from the shower slid over her feathers and drenched her shiny, black hair. With a sly smile, I slunk into the shower behind her. She didn't notice my presence until my arms wrapped around her waist and I brought my bill to her neck.

Ava turned her head when she felt my touch and smiled. She chuckled and lifted her hand to stroke the side of my face while I planted gentle kisses on her slender neck. "Jake, as much as I'm enjoying this, we have to hurry if we don't want to be late."

"I'm sure we still have plenty of time," I argued and continued to nuzzle my bill into her neck.

"Jake? It's 7:30."

"What!" I exclaimed, instantly letting go of her. "If I'm late again, J. Gander is going to demand what's been going on!"

"Here," she said as she snatched a towel and handed it to me. "Get dressed and head out without me. I don't have to be in until 8:30 and I have something to take care of on the way in."

I grabbed the towel and wrapped it around my waist as I hurried out of the shower. Scampering back into the bedroom, I quickly gathered my clothes from the floor where they had been scattered the night before. That morning, I dressed faster than I ever had before. Within minutes, I was fastening the buttons of my suit jacket and tucking in my tie. I took a final glance in the mirror before striding out of the bedroom just as I heard the running water from the shower shut off. I scooped up my keys from the doorside table and opened the apartment door to leave. But I quickly stopped myself, remembering my coat.

Closing the apartment door, I turned around and opened the closet to fetch my coat from where I had hung it the night before. Suddenly, the telephone rang again. I thought nothing of it as I pulled on my coat and prepared to leave. But I stopped as I head Ava answer after the first ring.

"Yes, sir. I'm terribly sorry for that happening," her voice came from the bedroom. "I had intended on being available to receive your call on schedule, but I hadn't intended on him staying as late as he did this morning."

My eyebrows raised. Curiosity getting the better of me, I silently slid into the closet and pulled the door close. I left the door open a crack, just enough to see Ava step into view with the phone in her hand and wrapped in a towel. Keeping my breathing light and quiet, I watched and listened carefully.

"SHUSH is almost complete in its research on the atomizer. When it's complete, I will report with the information required for a successful breach of their security and apprehension of the device. But I regret to inform that whether or not the research is complete, the breach may have to be put into motion sooner than anticipated. J. Gander has discovered the presence of a spy and has all of his finest pursuing the problem. I have time, but not much."

My breath was caught in my chest and my eyes widened. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. All I could do at the moment was freeze and continue to listen.

"Don't worry about Agent Mallard, High Command," Ava continued to speak into the phone. "I've got him in the position where he doesn't suspect a thing from me. I have him eating out of the palm of my hand. He won't give us any problems." There was a pause as she listened to the voice on the other end. "No. That is one thing I must insist, sir. No harm is to come to Agent Mallard. Yes? Yes, sir. I understand. I will report back tonight. Agent Moore out."

She hung up the phone and retreated back into the bedroom to dress. When she was out of sight, I exhaled the breath I had been holding throughout her entire conversation. My bottom jaw was hanging open and I leaned against the back wall of the closet, shaking my head in disbelief. I wanted to believe that I hadn't heard the words from Ava's mouth, but I knew I had heard everything clearly.

Still, I wanted more proof. I insisted to be convinced further. So I remained in the closet, waiting impatiently and rubbing my sweating hands together. Finally, I saw her form, dressed in her SHUSH suit, calmly step back into view. I watched her with suspicious eyes as she picked up her car keys from the table, pass by the closet, and quickly make her way out the door. For several minutes, I cautiously waited. Convinced that she wouldn't walk back through the door, I opened the closet door and stepped out to begin my search.

I had been in Ava's apartment dozens and dozens of times. It wasn't until then that I realized there were many areas of her residence I had not explored. In fact, I noticed that she made the extra effort to keep me away from certain rooms and closets. Usually, we would make a beeline for the bedroom. So I began my search of her apartment.

An hour went by and I had found nothing. I searched every nook and cranny, every closet, beneath every piece of furniture, and I found nothing. I was in the bedroom when I began to feel relieved, believing that what I heard earlier was a misunderstanding. After making sure everything was back in its proper place, I closed the dresser drawers, prepared to end my investigation. But when I turned to make my leave, a red flag shot up in the back of my mind. My eyes slowly shifted to the base of the bed. Before I could give a second thought, I dropped to my knees and lowered my head to peer beneath into the musty darkness.

My eyes adjusted and I made out the shadowy form of a slim, rectangular object. Reaching out, my hand grasped the object and I withdrew a black briefcase from under the bed. I stared at it fearfully as I slowly rose to my feet and sat on the edge of the bed with the briefcase on my lap. I hesitantly ran my hands over the smooth surface, momentarily reconsidering. But I ultimately flipped open the latches and lifted the lid.

Inside the briefcase were files, blueprints, maps, data, and personnel files. With a blank expression, I began to flip through the items. Everything inside would serve as a purpose in an attack against SHUSH. The blueprints were of headquarters, the maps displayed security locations, and personnel files provided leverage information on SHUSH agents that could be a potential problem of FOWL.

I was convinced that I had seen enough. Just as I was about to slam the briefcase shut, a file caught my attention. The label tab read 'Mallard, Jake.' I slid the folder out from beneath the other files and opened it without hesitation. Copies of my entire personal file from SHUSH were neatly compiled together along with my headshot. Everything, from my high school transcripts to my performance test results from SHUSH, was on paper in front of me. Even my single criminal record.

"Ava, no..." I whispered and shook my head in denial.

She was the FOWL spy. She had been fooling SHUSH the entire time. And she had been fooling me. Using me. I felt a twisting pain in my chest as I remembered everything we had shared in the past several months. I suddenly felt nauseated and felt as if I would throw up. I didn't want to believe it were true, but the evidence was crystal clear in front of me.

Slowly, my eyes narrowed as a thirst for vengeance overcame me. I closed the file and replaced everything back into the briefcase. I slammed the briefcase shut and stormed out of the bedroom with my evidence in hand.


	11. Poison

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Short chapter, which I'm sorry for. But it was a good place to end and pick up with the next chapter. Please Review!

DISCLAIMER: Jake Mallard and Ava Blackfeather are © me. J. Gander Hooter is © Disney.

"_Your cruel, deep eyes._

_Your blood, like ice._

_One look could kill._

_My pain, your thrill._

_I want to love you_

_but I better not touch._

_I want to hold you _

_but my senses tell me to stop._

_I want to kiss you_

_but I want it too much._

_I want to taste you _

_but your lips are venomous_

_poison_."

**CHAPTER 11**

"I must say that this greatly upsets me, Jake," J. Gander said as he sifted through the last of the papers in the briefcase I had presented to him. I sat silently in a chair on the opposite side of his desk, barely moving a muscle and my blank, cold stare unwavering. When he finished reading over Ava's history at FOWL, he set all of the papers back in the briefcase and looked up at me with a morbid frown. "I'm not sure that I even want to know what business you had in Agent Blackfeather's apartment and snooping around, Jake. Under normal circumstances, I would have you seriously reprimanded for such behavior."

I didn't even flinch. This was a speech I had been prepared to hear from him. I kept my gaze forward and listened.

"But..." J. Gander continued and sighed with a small heave of his shoulders. He looked up at me and shook his head, closing the briefcase. "I'm sorry, Jake."

After I had left J. Gander's office, I made my way across headquarters to Ava's office. On the outside, I was cool and calm, as usual. On the inside, I was sullen and disappointed for the first time in nearly three years. In my mind, I was going over what I would say to her when we came face-to-face. Ava was a strong and competitive person, just like me. I knew this wasn't going to be easy. For the first time in a long while, I was nervous.

When I came to the closed door with her name scribed in acrylic letters, I wrapped my hand around the doorknob. But I stopped. I began to re-think what I was about to do. Was it really worth it? Would I feel a stabbing guilt for the rest of my life on top of the guilt I was already experiencing? Then I remembered listening to Ava's phone conversation back at her apartment. My eyes narrowed as I began to realize that she had deceived me for the final time.

Finally, I brought myself to push open the door and step inside the office. Ava turned around and faced me with a delighted smile as I closed the door behind me.

"Agent Mallard. What can I do for you?" she asked, playing up to our usual charade in case anyone was listening. When I didn't reply and continued to stare emotionlessly at her, she frowned. "Jake, what is it?"

"Why?" I asked calmly, but my voice and expression were both pained.

Ava stared at me, not understanding. "Why what? Jake, what are you talking about?"

"Why?" I asked again in a more demanding tone as I stepped toward her, stopping only feet away. "Why did you have to lie to _me_ of all people? Did you believe I wouldn't find out?"

"Jake, you're scaring me," Ava said, her voice waivering nervously. "What are you talking about?"

I closed the distance between us so we were only inches apart. My eyes burned right through her and I could see her flinch on the inside. "It was you the whole time. _You're_ the spy from FOWL."

Her eyes widened, dumbfounded. "Jake, that's not funny. How could you say that?"

From my jacket I removed one of the many files I had found in the briefcase and slammed it down on her desk. She calmly stared down at the file and returned her gaze to mine. "What is that?"

"One of the dozens of files I found in the briefcase under your bed," I answered. "That one in particular is your employment status file from FOWL."

Ava's expression swiftly turned into an angry glare. "You were snooping in my apartment?"

"I forgot where I left my keys," I lied blatantly. "I heard you on the phone this morning with your employer, 'Agent Moore.'"

The truth was out. Ava had no way to defend herself against my accusations and proof, and she knew it. She dropped her defenses and scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "You don't have enough proof. This won't hold up against me when you present it to Director Hooter. And by the time a full investigation can be done, FOWL will have already succeeded in its mission."

"I beg to differ, sweetheart," I retoted. I circled her nin a predatory fashion while she defied being intimidated. "I have enough dirt on you to see that you'll never step foot outside of this building again."

"Then how come you haven't turned me in yet?" Ava spat back impatiently.

"Because I have a proposition for you." I stopped in front of her so we were face-to-face. Her fiery eyes countered my ice-cold glare. "I'm tired of waiting around here and waiting for what's coming to me. I want more than SHUSH has to offer. If I assist you in the downfall of SHUSH, I'm sure_ I _will be rewarded by FOWL."

She threw her head back and laughed. "_You_ want to betray SHUSH for FOWL? And you expect me to believe you?"

I remained cool, calm, and convincing. "Or I can personally escort you down to the containment units right now. Your choice."

Ava grunted, clearly frustrated. She ran her fingers through her long, black hair and exhaled stressfully as she battled the conflict in her head. She had an ego big enough to match mine, which made the decision harder for her than it had to be. Finally, she looked at me with that devious smile.

"This could be the start of another beautiful partnership, Agent Mallard," she suggested slyly. Ava glided over to me and lifted her arms to drape them over my shoulders and around my neck. I tried to avert from her deceitful smile but I found my eyes locked with her. I was unable to pull away from her passionate stare that was masking her lies. "Imagine how FOWL will commemorate us for our triumph. Imagine the power they will give us," she whispered seductively into my ear.

I didn't stop her as she tilted her head back and lifted her bill to mine. My eyes closed as we shared a passionate embrace. Her hands slid up my neck and to the back of my head to pull me closer to her. I pressed against her and lifted my hands to gently stroke the top of her own. And then, I made my move.

I was too quick for her to react. My hands suddenly clamped over her right wrist and I spun her around to face away from me. Ava yelped, startled as I yanked her arms behind her back and held them in a death grip.

"What are you doing!" she shrieked.

"Oh, you're good," I complimented in a resentful growl. "But I'm not going to play your games anymore. I'm tired of playing and being played."

Ava jerked and struggled to pull free. I jammed my knee into her lower back, which temporarily ceased her attempt to pull free. She gasped in pain and slumped from the sudden loss of energy. Freeing one hand, I pulled a small radio from my jacket. "I've got her." Next I removed a pair of handcuffs and securely clamped them around her wrists.

"Jake, why are you doing this?" Ava groaned as she lifted her head to stare at me in utter shock. "I thought we were in this together!"

"You thought wrong," I snapped back, avoiding eye contact with her. I could hear the rushing stampede of footsteps approaching from down the hallway.

"But Jake..." The painful tone in her voice forced me to look into her eyes. They were full of pain, but I saw a faint sparkle of something else. Regret. "I love you..."

The door behind us suddenly burst open. Several agents and guards swarmed inside. Two guards stepped between Ava and I to take her by the arms and escort her out of the office. As they ushered her towards the door, she looked over her shoulder at me with a desperate, pleading expression. I ignored her and watched as she was led out the door and disappeared around the corner.

I was too busy questioning the sincerity of Ava's confession to notice J. Gander step up beside me. "Did you get it, Agent Mallard?"

Without looking at him, I reached into the pocket of my jacket and removed the small, hidden audio recorder. I handed it to him while still looking towards the door. "She actually thought she'd never be caught."

"Ah, yes. But this is the final element of proof we needed to uncover her full intentions," J. Gander concluded while other agents were busily investigating Ava's office. Then he said something I had been waiting to hear for nearly three years.

"Congratulations, Chief Agent Mallard."

I just wish I had heard it in a different scenario.

Regardless of the ecstatic news, I remained calm and dignified. "I'd like to see her, sir."

Ten minutes later, I was descending the stairs to the containment units. I was ready to face Ava one last time. Only now, my head was held high with my promotion. My new title gave me a new confidence to confront the woman who ruthlessly betrayed me. Two guards were flanking one of the half-dozen cells in the dim corridor when I stepped through the door. Their heads turned and they both nodded respectfully. If it weren't for the grim situation, I would have been grinning with pride.

Ava had been sitting on the old, rickety cot bolted into the cement wall with her face buried in her hands when I walked up. She must have heard the footsteps because her head perked up as I stopped in front of the small cell. Her eyes lit up and she jumped to her feet. "Jake!"

I looked to the two guards. "Give us a few minutes." It was my first order as Chief Agent. The two guards nodded and obediently retreated.

"Jake, I knew you'd change your mind," Ava said in a gentle and hopeful voice. "I knew your conscience and your feelings wouldn't let you keep me down here."

"What conscience?" I answered coldly. "What feelings? SHUSH stripped my conscience away years ago when they nearly tortured me to death! And _you_ took my 'feelings,' chewed them up, and spat them out with contempt!"

She was shocked by the deliverance of my words and stepped back. Her eyes were wide with shock. "Jake, I--!"

"You LIED to me, Ava!" I shouted and angrily jabbed my finger through the bars at her. "I put my trust in you, I cared for you, and I maybe even _loved_ you! And what do you do? You betray that trust and crush it in your cold hands!"

"DON'T you play 'innocent' with me, Jake!" Ava fiercly accused and stormed back towards me. The only things separating us by only inches were the bars of the cell door. "You haven't exactly been 'Mr. Truthful' yourself!"

I glared at her defiantly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I _never_ lied to you!"

But she remained unconvinced. "You told me your wife and son were murdered."

"They were murdered!"

"But you failed to mention that _you_ were the one who murdered them!"

My bill opened to retaliate but no words came out. I folded my arms across my chest and huffed. "I see you did your homework rather thoroughly on me."

"Oh please, Jake. Don't flatter yourself," Ava sighed. She turned her back to me and sauntered away several feet. "I didn't give you any 'special attention.'"

"Bullshit. You zeroed in on me because you knew that I was the only one who would be clever enough to figure out who you really were. Your 'feelings' toward me were only to keep me distracted from uncovering you!" I accused in confidence.

Ava turned her head and smirked coyly over her shoulder. "And 'uncover' me you did. Several times."

I watched as she once again approached the cell door, but with a sultry swagger to her step. She brought her face as close to mine as she could and gave an exotic smile that had lured me in many nights before. I was lost in her hazel eyes and savored her touch when her hand rose to stroke my chin. My intense glower slowly faded and I closed my eyes wistfully.

"It doesn't have to be this way," Ava said in a soothing, gentle manner. "Neither of us have to live this way. We could start over. Both of us, Together. I'd give up FOWL in a heartbeat to be with you. Join me, Jake..."

But she was too late. Ava had already misused my trust and thrown it out without a second thought. I had been taught at SHUSH to never trust anyone. My judgment became clouded by Ava's seductive demeanor and I had learned that lesson the hard way. Learning that lesson had left another gaping hole in my heart that still exists to this day.

My eyes shot open, my dark eyebrows shadowing my icy green glower. "It's _Chief Agent Mallard _now."

Ava withdrew her hand from my face with a surprised expression. "What?"

"You'll address me as 'Chief Agent Mallard' from now on," I repeated and took a step back with my arms folded professionally behind my back. Suddenly, it was as if mine and Ava's relationship outside of SHUSH was non-existent. "I was promoted for capturing the notorious FOWL agent. From now on, all major decisions go through me, including what happens to you."

She shook her head in denial. I couldn't decipher whether her shocked expression was from my news or my sudden ill-manner towards her."Jake, you can't be serious! You can't leave me in here! What about us? What about what we shared? I know I abused your trust but I promise you that I had no intention of turning you over to FOWL with the rest of SHUSH's agents! You have to believe me!"

"Give me one good reason why I should?"

"Because I love you, Jake!" Ava admitted in a shaky voice. "I didn't intend on it turning out this way but I changed over the time we've been together. You can't fight your feelings. You can't choose who you fall in love with. I've learned that."

I didn't flinch. Her words didn't affect me. I just kept my frosty stare locked on her despaired look.

"Jake, please..." she begged, clutching the bars tightly in her hands.

There was a long pause. For a moment, it looked as if I were reconsidering. Finally, I gave her my answer.

"I don't want to see you ever again."

Ava's bill fell open but she was at a loss for words.

I adjusted the lapels of my suit and lifted my head proudly. "You'll be moved to a distant SHUSH penitentiary next week. Make sure you get a good look at the sun on the journey. It will be the last time you ever see it."

With that, I turned and signaled to the guards to reacquire their positions. As they approach, I strolled away from the cell towards the door without another word or look at Ava.

"Jake? Jake! Come back here!" she shouted desperately after me. When I didn't respond, she continued her pleas. "Please! Jake, you can't leave me in here! JAKE!"

Her cries were still audible as I heard the metal door slam shut behind me. But I felt not an ounce of remorse in my blood. My eyes were fixed in a spiteful glare which would remain on my face for the rest of my life. Ava was a poison that would have killed me in a matter of time.

The continuing shrieks gradually faded while I ascended the stairs from the confinement units. That was the last time I ever saw Ava. And it was the last time I exposed my heart to anyone.

"_Poison"_ song and lyrics are © Alice Cooper.


	12. Mad World

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Finally, an update! Thank you all for being patient! This chapter finally introduces the concept of parallel universes: The Negaverse and The Normalverse. I recently took on a second job, so I'm doing the full-time college thing with two jobs. I'll get the next installment started as soon as possible, but there's no telling when that will be.

TO PAST REVIEWERS: THANK YOU! Thanks so much for all of your kind reviews. Please, keep them coming. I appreciate them very, very much!

DISCLAIMER: Jake Mallard and Agent Anderson are © me. J. Gander Hooter and Drake Mallard are © Disney. Jacob Mallard and Gail Mallard appear courtesy of and are © Amanda Rohrssen.

**CHAPTER 12**

Becoming the chief agent of SHUSH, I regained two main aspects of my character: importance and power. They were things that I had possessed as a CEO in the past and were a major part of my demeanor. I wasn't myself when I didn't feel important or have power.

After the incident with Ava and receiving my promotion, I became a different person. Nearly unrecognizable. Being double-crossed and betrayed by a woman I had put my trust had in turned me into a cold, cynical bastard. And becoming second-in-command at SHUSH boasted my ego out of proportion.

The first few months of being Chief Agent Mallard were exhilarating. I fell right into the position with no difficulty, for I knew how to run an empire with authority. Director Hooter considered me his prime advisor and put all of his confidence in me. No longer was I following the orders of others. Now _I_ was the one giving orders and relishing in the way that the younger recruits looked up to me. The stories of my own recruitment and experiences became notorious throughout the organization. I had become a towering icon.

However, the adrenaline was short lived. The core of my duties involved supervising the head agents and the occasional mission which no other agent was qualified to perform. Still, I found the lack of challenge I quicky began to experience bored me.

But I managed to find ways to spend my free time. Along with my promotion came an increase in salary. I was able to move into a swank apartment in a high-class area of St. Canard and drove only the luxurious cars, including a beloved new Aston Martin. Perhaps I was only drawn to the high-class lifestyle because it was so familiar and filled with better memories of the past.

And I had women. Many women. They were drawn to my finances, snarling after it like ravaging wolves. And since many of them were recruits at SHUSH, hoping to rise quickly in the positional latter, they were attracted to my position of power. Heartless, greedy wenches. Little did they know that they would meet their match. I held dozens of women in my bed to satisfy my libido, promising them advancement in SHUSH's hierarchy. And every time I was with a woman, I thought of Abigail. I missed her dearly and would always see her face in front of me. After being fulfilled, I would lay awake with a beautiful woman asleep in my arms who meant nothing to me other than sex, counting the minutes until the sun came up and I could escape. Within the week, those women would find themselves dismissed from SHUSH for 'disclosed reasons.' I used women and disposed of them like a tissue.

I continued to be plagued by horrendous nightmares. Every night. The memories of my own abusive childhood and of my murderous rampage on my family played like a movie in my mind. And I was helpless to stop it. No matter how much I screamed, no matter how much I tried, I was forced to watch myself become a monster.

The best dreams I had were the ones depicting my life finally ending. I was with my family again, without a care in the world. Only then would I be purely happy again.

I longed for some excitement. For a challenge. I was still young, only 35 years old, and I desired for more. Little did I know at the time that I was about to embark of the greatest challenge of my life.

"I don't care which one of them had been using the nitrate! The fact that YOU were the head agent in charge of that department shows your neglect in supervising your recruits, Agent!" I barked at the agent who stiffly stood in front of my desk, desperately trying not to flinch at my harsh reprimand. I was sitting in a large, black leather chair and leaning over my cherrywood desk while I shouted my discipline in a strong voice. "And now, the entire east science lab is char-broiled!"

The petrified agent managed to find his voice. "Sir, I assure you that I will..."

"I don't care what you do! Just _fix_ it!"

He nodded vigorously, not daring to utter another word. Quickly, he turned on his heels and opened my office door to make his leave in haste. Just as he left, Agent Anderson had arrived. He watched the fear-struck agent retreat with a raised eyebrow before stepping into my office. "Hey, Jake."

I sighed, exasperated, and leaned back in my chair while stressfully rubbing my temples. "Derek."

Anderson looked in the direction the agent had disappeared before turning back to me with a smirk. "Scare the shit out of another one, did you?"

I looked up at him with a purely puzzled expression. "Why do I have to yell at everyone in order for anything to be done right?"

He laughed at my misfortune. However, I found nothing funny and I glared at him bitterly.

"Well, you wanted to be Chief Agent," Anderson pointed out while he stifled his snickers. "It's not easy as it looks, being all high-and-mighty, is it?"

A scoff resentful scoff escaped my bill. "Now I know why J. Gander has a chief agent. That way HE doesn't have to deal with the incompetent idiots."

Somehow, he continued to find the situation amusing. "Relax, Jake. It can't get much worse, can it?"

I gave him an unconvinced look. "Wanna bet?"

He ignored my comment. "Besides, there's been some good news."

"I'll try to contain my enjoyment," I responded sarcastically, seeming disinterested.

However, Anderson gave me a wry smile. "It's finished."

My eyes lifted to meet his, searching for any sign that he wasn't serious. "You're kidding."

He smiled and shook his head. "The lab has it prepped and ready for testing."

Like a gunshot, I was on my feet and out the door in the direction of the north science lab.

"It's been nearly a year's worth of work but I guarantee the finished product was well worth the wait."

"Impressive, Professor Waddlemeyer," J. Gander complimented.

Myself, J. Gander, several lab technicians, and the middle-aged scientist, Professor Waddlemeyer, were gathered in the lab for the unveiling of the dimensional atomizer that Ava and I had acquired from FOWL the previous year. The heavy-set scientist had been adjusting the atomizer for a distinct purpose: to allow one to slip through dimensions into a parallel universe. This was an event I had anxiously been awaiting. My cool, calm demeanor said otherwise.

"The electron accelerator enables one to pass through one dimension to another. With proper testing, we could acquire knowledge from places that no one else will ever have access to," Waddlemeyer continued to explain.

"And you're positive it works?" I asked skeptically.

His bushy eyebrows lowered over his eyes, passing me a resentful scowl for questioning his work. "We've had several successful test-runs on inanimate objects and animal test subjects. But we still have yet to test it on an individual. However, I'm quite confident."

"Very good, Professor. We'll have the lab go through applicants for a competent volunteer. We'll be discovering new secrets to use against our enemies in no time," J. Gander reassured, an excited sparkle in his eyes.

This was the opportunity I had been waiting for. I had been seeking a chance for adventure, danger, the unknown. And here it was right in front of me.

"I'll do it."

Heads turned in my direction. J. Gander looked up at me, puzzled. "Excuse me, Mallard?"

"I said I volunteer, J. Gander," I repeated in a sincere voice.

J. Gander continued to stare at me with disbelief. "Jake, you're my top agent. This mission is filled with unknowns and possibly very fatal."

"Exactly why you need to send in your best. You don't want someone going in on this mission who doesn't know what they're doing," I pointed out matter-of-factly. "Sir, I insist that I take this mission."

He hesitated. Even the scientist appeared skeptical of the idea. The pause seemed to last forever as I anxiously awaited the answer.

"Alright, Mallard. Go to your office to prepare yourself and return here in an hour."

I couldn't wait the whole hour. Forty-five minutes later, I was in the lab, prepping the dimensional atomizer. The device was an altered prototype of the original atomizer I had stolen from FOWL. It resembled the modern digital watch of today. Instead of displaying the time, the screen on the face displayed settings alongside half a dozen buttons. Professor Waddlemeyer explained to me the functions as I strapped it around my wrist.

"The settings on the device are already tuned to the parallel universe," Waddlemeyer informed over my shoulder. "The code to return is 2-12-85."

"Great. I feel like I'm in some corny time travel film," I muttered with an obvious lack of enthusiasm.

"Now remember, Jake," J. Gander began his repeated lecture that I had already heard twice in the past twenty minutes. "This is merely a trial run. When you arrive, I want you to take only quick observations of the surroundings and report immediately back here."

"And that prototype is singular at this point. We need to know if it works correctly before attempting to duplicate it for extensive SHUSH use," Waddlemeyer chimed in.

I nodded impatiently, anxious to be on my way. "Yeah, yeah. Take a quick look around, return with good information, make sure the thing even works. Got it."

"You have four hours, Mallard," J. Gander informed as I loaded my handgun for precautions. "If you do not return by 1800 hours, we will assume the worse."

"Thank you for your cheerful insight, J. Gander," I scoffed sarcastically and slipped the gun into my jacket. I took in a breath and exhaled deeply as I lifted my wrist. "Alright, here goes nothing."

I pressed the small green button on the side of the watch-like face and turned the bordering dial. The screen on the face began to glow and a beam of light shot upwards. A startled gasp escaped my bill as the light expanded and enveloped me. The brightness intensified, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut and shield my face with my arm.

Seconds later, the light began to swiftly dim. I lowered my arm and rubbed my eyes to rejuvenate my vision. But when my vision cleared, I was greeted by the sight of a commercial truck speeding towards me and blaring its horn.

"Whoa!" I yelped and dove to out of the street to the sidewalk, just barely missing becoming roadkill.

The car speed by, followed by other traffic that created a wind which blew through my feathers. I leaned against a streetlight on the sidewalk to regain myself. While I caught my breath, I looked around and examined my surroundings. At first, I questioned whether the device had really worked. Everything looked the same–the buildings, the Audubon Bay Bridge, the bay. But I remembered Waddlemeyer mentioning the _parallel_ universe. And I was no longer inside SHUSH as when I left. People walked along the sidewalk, passing me by as if I were just another person who belonged in their society. No one knew who I really was or where I was from.

The dimensional atomizer had worked. I was in the parallel universe. A triumphant smile slid across my bill. But then I wondered what, if anything, was different in this universe. And I remembered the purpose of SHUSH sending agents into this realm: to discover any intelligence that we may not have uncovered yet and could use against our enemies.

Four hours. I had limited time to explore this world. Hesitantly, I began to stroll down the sidewalk, trying to suppress any suspicious behavior. I took in the surroundings, scrutinizing every detail. The further into the city I got, the more curious I became. I even became so involved with my observations that I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and bumped into another person walking in the opposite direction.

"Omf!" I grunted, accompanied by the sound of a grocery bag falling to the sidewalk.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" the woman's gentle voice exclaimed.

"No, no. My fault. Allow me," I replied as I bent down to pick up the bag of groceries that had fallen from her arms in the collision.

She gave a gentle chuckle of gratitude. "I really should pay more attention to where I'm going. I guess I should be thankful that I bumped into a gentleman rather than a disgruntled madman."

The irony of her statement caused me to guffaw as I stood up with her bag in my arms. "Yes, I suppose so. Here you are, Miss..."

My voice was suddenly lost and my words disappeared. I lifted my head to stare into the deep, gentle blue eyes of a familiar, blonde haired woman.

"Abby?" I blurted out without thinking.

She blinked questionably at me. "Oh, no! I'm sorry, my name is Gail. Gail Mallard. Thank you, Mister...?"

"McAllister. John McAllister." I knew that using my real name would be a mistake. And I then knew that this was not my Abigail, despite the shocking resemblance. I was still entranced by this woman in front of me. She looked exactly like her in every detail. Even her soft, enchanting voice.

"Well, thank you, Mr. McAllister," Gail said with a grateful smile. "If you'll excuse me, I have to run. My husband can quickly become cranky if I don't have dinner ready by the time he gets home from SHUSH. It was a pleasure meeting you."

I was reluctant to let her go. I wanted her to stay. The buried sense of being lonely and missing Abigail shouted at me to stop her from leaving. But I fought the sentimental urges and simply replied, "Likewise."

She gave me a final smile before continuing on her way down the sidewalk. I watched her depart until she disappeared around a corner. My throat felt dry and constricted as the realities of this new universe became known to me. The same surroundings, the same people. But things were not the same. Abigail was dead, and she and this Gail were one in the same person.

Then something Gail had said returned to my attention like a boomerang. About her husband and SHUSH. My curiosity perked even more, I made a beeline in the direction that I knew SHUSH would be located.

Everything at SHUSH was the same. The building looked the same. Even some of the people I watched from a discrete corner who went inside looked exactly like my comrades back home. And yet, I found myself intrigued as I continued to observe every passerby. They all appeared so content in their dull, everyday routine life without a concern.

Naive. All of them. So oblivious to what the world was _really_ like. Oblivious to the hell that a significant few had to endure in their lives. Oblivious to the fact that other universes exist. I knew that now. But how many? And what does each have to offer, if anything at all?

I patiently waited from the corner for twenty minutes, watching every person who came in and out of SHUSH. Finally, I couldn't wait any longer. I strolled up the front stairs and through the front doors as if I belonged there. With my head held high in confidence, I strutted through the lobby in the desired direction. Agents acknowledged me with nods and smiles as I passed. While turning a corner, I bumped into a young rookie agent.

"Oh, excuse me, Agent Mallard," he apologized and quickly continued on his way.

So, the 'Agent Mallard' of this dimension was also looked upon with respect. Now, I was more curious than ever. With a cautious eye, I began to make my way towards a particular wing of the building – where _my_ office was located.

"_Agent Jacob Mallard." _I read the acrylic letters on the translucent window of the office door with a raised eyebrow. It was true. I, too, had a double in this universe. I looked around to see no one present before knocking on the door. No answer. I didn't know what I would have done if the door opened and I came face-to-face with myself.

Convinced that he was not inside, I opened the door and stepped into the office. Upon taking in the condition of the office, I scoffed. Files and supplies were scattered about the desk. Crumpled pieces of paper were carelessly discarded on the floor. Compared to my own office, the room was in disorder.

"Well, some things obviously aren't the same," I muttered to myself and closed the door behind me.

Stepping further into the office, I took a mental picture of every detail. What was the same, and what was different. A bulletin board was hanging on the wall, covered with newspaper clippings and photographs. I stepped closer to take a better look and read over the headings of a few of the articles. But one in particular caught my attention.

"_**John Gander Hooter: Appointed New SHUSH Director."**_

A black and white photograph accompanied the article. I recognized Director Hooter shaking hands with a federal commander as he received his rank. And I also recognized the young mallard flanking the new director. The name in the footnote below the photo identified him as _'Jacob Mallard.'_

He had the same confident stature with an underlying tone of arrogance. He portrayed an image of success and pride, like me. I scoffed and turned away from the bulletin board, seeing just how full of himself this agent really was.

But something else caught my eye. Among the mounds of disarrayed paperwork, several framed photographs stood upright. I curiously stepped behind the desk and sat down in the chair to observe. Leaning forward, I picked up the silver frame bordering a black and white photo. A wedding photo, of the familiar, handsome young mallard and the beautiful young woman I had met earlier.

"Abigail...?" I whispered mournfully.

But I knew she wasn't her. She wasn't _my_ Abigail. She was Jacob's Gail. They may have looked exactly the same, but I was quickly learning that they were not the same person. Reluctantly, I set the picture back in its place and exchanged it for another beside it. A family photograph, with two additional individuals. One was a young girl around the age of six or seven. Judging from the resemblances, I deduced that she was their daughter. In Gail's arms was an infant. A familiar infant.

"Drake..."

Regret swelled up inside me and I suddenly felt the heavy weight of sorrow weighing down my shoulders. My eyes glossed over as I stared at the picture, taking in the expressions of each face. Particularly, I noticed Jacob. He appeared happy. _Purely_ happy. Something that I had not experienced in years.

I tenderly wiped my thumb over the picture as a tear escaped the corner of my eye. Hastily, I wiped it away with the back of my hand while I realized another difference between him and I. Jacob still had everything important to him. I did not. He was still happy. I was not.

The sound of chatting voices and approaching footsteps snapped me out of my reverie. I lifted my head to hear two people come to a stop just outside the closed door.

"Oh, come on, John! You work too hard." The voice was a slight variation of my own, possessing many similarities. "Come with us Saturday night. It will be just like old times!"

"Jacob, your rambunctious ways haven't changed," J. Gander said with a short chuckle.

"Changed, no. They just have their limits," Jacob corrected. "Come on, John. Gail would love to see you."

"I can't make any promises."

Jacob let out a defeated sigh. "One of these days, I'm going to pull you away from that desk. I promise!" The two shared a friendly laugh. "Wait up a second and I'll walk out with you. I just have to grab my coat."

The door to the office swung open and Jacob stepped inside. But he quickly stopped and stared with a hard, suspicious stare. From underneath his desk, I held my breath, not making a single sound. I waited and listened, deciphering his actions based on what I heard. It was as if he noticed something wasn't right in the room.

"Hmm. Wait a minute..." he muttered aloud.

Ever muscle in my body tensed. Footsteps approached the desk and I scrunched as far back against the desk as I could. Against the wall in front of me, I could see his shadow becoming smaller as he came closer.

"Aha! There you are!"

I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself. But nothing happened. I opened my eyes to see Jacob's hand snatch his coat from the chair and disappear. I silently exhaled all of the air from my lungs in relief. The footsteps retreated, followed by the sound of the door closing. I waited several seconds before crawling out from under the desk. Quickly, I got to my feet and discretely followed the pair out of the building.

I wanted to learn more, more about Jacob, more about his family. After 'borrowing' a vehicle from the SHUSH and waiting for Jacob to make his leave, I secretly followed him to where I knew he was going. Home.

The sky began to dim into a blend of reds and oranges as the sun began to lower on the horizon. The city lights began to flicker on one by one, announcing the coming of another night. I was parked in the suburban neighborhood, across the street from the Mallard residence. Through the house's front windows I watched, a pair of binoculars held to my eyes.

The family was gathering in the dining room, preparing for dinner. Gail was busily removing the elements of the meal from the oven and stove. A young girl, a teenager, was setting the table. Then I saw Jacob enter the scene. He sauntered over to Gail, sporting a charismatic smile. She turned and greeted him with loveable smile and the two exchange a quick peck on the bill. A scoff escaped my bill and I was about to grudgingly turn away, until the final member of the family came into view. The young, ten-year old mallard bounded into the room and excitedly scampered to his father.

"Drake," I whispered.

Drake tugged on his Jacob's sleeve, who responded with an inaudible laugh and plucked him from the ground in his arms. The family began to take their seats at the table and Jacob sat Drake down in his chair.

I lowered the binoculars from my eyes and begrudgingly turned away with a bitter scowl. The loneliness and spite towards myself was stronger than ever. Seeing my double so happy and fortunate made me realize just how badly I had screwed up my life and how much I missed my family. I never knew how much they really meant to me until now. Now that they were gone.

Jealousy suddenly flared from deep inside me as I looked towards the house again. I wondered why. Why was it _I_ who experienced the downfall? Why was it _I_ who lost everything? Why was it _I_ who went insane and was now left with nothing but my ego? Why not _him_? Why me?

My eyes narrowed angrily. I wrapped my fingers tightly around the steering wheel and a low growl rumbled in my throat. I turned the key in the ignition the drove the car away as the blanket of night moved over the city. The fact that I was alone and miserable was not unknown to me.

If I was destined to be alone and miserable, then so was Jacob Mallard. I would make sure that happened.

I returned to SHUSH in my home universe with a half hour to spare. When I confronted Director Hooter, he seemed shocked to see me in one piece.

"Agent Mallard!" he exclaimed the second I walked into his office. "I must say, I'm impressed to see you made it back alive. Relieved, but impressed. I take it the device worked sufficiently?"

I possessed a stone-cold expression as I came to a stop in front of his desk. "Yes, J. Gander. You can say that. I have much to report."

"Excellent," he answered. Excitedly, he got to his feet and approached me. J. Gander began to usher me out of the office with him. "Tell me every detail, Jake. And can I count on you to make another journey in the near future?"

A malevolent scowl graced my face.

"I'd be glad to, sir. I look forward to it with MUCH anticipation."

"_All around me are familiar faces,_

_Worn out places, worn out faces._

_Bright and early for their daily races,_

_Going nowhere, going nowhere._

_Their tears are filling up their glasses,_

_No expression, no expression._

_Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow,_

_No tomorrow, no tomorrow._

_And I find it kind of funny,_

_I find it kind of sad._

_The dreams in which I'm dying_

_Are the best I've ever had._

_I find it hard to tell you_

_Cause I find it hard to take._

_When people run in circles,_

_It's a very, very_

_Mad world._"

"_Mad World"_ song and lyrics are © Tears for Fears.


	13. Strike One

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Finally, here is an update for all of you patient readers--sorry it took so long! I hope to get another chapter up before the semester starts. Also, thank you to Amanda for proof-reading this chapter.

TO PAST REVIEWERS: Thank you! I cannot express how much I really appreciate your reviews! Additionally, thank you to those who have e-mailed me in search of any artwork pretaining to this story. To see some of my character artwork relating to this story (among other artwork), please visit this link: http/bloodyban. Jake Mallard is © me. Jacob Mallard and Gail Mallard appear courtesy of and are © Amanda Rohrssen. J. Gander Hooter and Professor Waddlemeyer are © Disney.

To brush up on Jacob Mallard's life story, read _The Sins of the Father_ by Darkwing Psycho.

**CHAPTER 13**

The screeching of the car's tires echoed in the vast openness of the indoor SHUSH track. I could smell the burning rubber before the car sped forward from the power of the 1972 Aston Martin's V8 engine. My fingers were wrapped loosely around the leather steering wheel while I maneuvered effortlessly yet impressively around the set obstacle course. My foot pumped on the gas pedal with every sharp turn and my right hand fluently worked the shift.

Director Hooter and Professor Waddlemeyer stood safely on the track's sidelines, watching me swerve between obstacles and rounding corners without a single error. I pressed my foot down on the gas pedal to gain more speed. I could hear the engine accelerate and the end of the track was growing nearer and nearer. The space between me and the far wall was growing smaller. With only seconds to spare, I slammed my foot on the brake and sharply turned the steering wheel. The car spun 180 degrees. Now facing the opposite direction, I eased my foot from the break and pressed it down on the gas once again.

The car zoomed forward and I eyed the simulated targets approaching on my left. I freed my left hand from the steering wheel to pull the handgun from the holster inside my jacket. As the targets came closer and closer, I steadied the car's course with my right hand and leaned my upper body out of the window. With the gun in my left hand, I aimed and fired at the targets as they zipped by. All of the shots fired hit each target dead-center--except one. I let out a defeated growl and pulled myself back inside the car.

After rounding one final lap, the car slowed to an easy stop in front of the director and professor. I calmly opened the door and stepped out with the smug stature of a professional. A small audience of lower ranking SHUSH agents had gathered on the sidelines to watch, mesmerized with interest. Of course, ninety percent of them were women. I eagerly soaked up the attention as I strut proudly toward J. Gander.

"I've been wondering why my female agents seem to be continuously distracted," J. Gander accused once I had joined them.

I suavely brushed my fingers through the spiky feathers atop my head, knowing that I was still being watched by my 'fans.' "I can't help it if the ladies find me simply irresistible, sir."

"Perhaps being a little less vain and spending under an hour primping in the morning will prove to be a good start in fixing that problem," Professor Waddleymeyer chimed in cynically.

My charming smile quickly fell into a resentful scowl. Professor Waddlemeyer and I had never been on very good terms with one another. I opened my bill to retort, but J. Gander promptly cut me off to prevent a confrontation. "Jake, your skills are nothing short of impeccable. I feel more confident in sending you back to the parallel universe to scout this SHUSH that you reported."

"Explain this to me once more, 'Chief Agent,'" Professor Waddlemeyer interrupted daringly. "You say this 'other world' is exactly the same as our own?"

"No, 'Professor.' Everything is not _exactly_ the same," I began to correct off-handedly as I retrieved a fresh clip for my 9mm. "The city is the same in general appearance. Same buildings, same people. But it is different in the sense of personality."

"You mean the people?"

"I mean _everything_." I clicked the magazine into the butt of the gun and continued. "What is good here is evil there and vice-versa. The scum of our city have been transformed into model citizens in this 'opposite' city.Our organizations with the goals to harm the people contrast with those there that are meant to protect. Get it?"

Professor Waddlemeyer nodded, but I could see the begrudging sneer he was trying to hide. He had not been keen on the idea of another person receiving attention for something that his invention was responsible for, especially if that someone was me.

"If we've unlocked the technological secrets to pass into this opposite universe, then it is very possible that those on the other side of the continuum could do the same and stumble upon us," J. Gander pointed out with concern in his voice. He tilted his head upward to look up at me demandingly. "This is a mission of the most importance, Jake. Get into that SHUSH facility. I don't care how, just do it. And gather all of the imperative information and statistics needed for a full breech. We must take them out before they discover us."

I remained silent and unmoving. J. Gander gave me a deadly smile that warned me not to protest. "Do you think you can handle it, Chief Agent Mallard?"

I took several seconds to contemplate what he was asking of me. No, _demanding_ of me. Finally, I gave him my answer. I cocked the gun in my hand and lifted it into the air. I aimed effortlessly to the right and pulled the trigger, the gunshot ringing inside the facility. The bullet ripped through the head of the single target I had missed. I turned back to J. Gander with a twisted grin.

"Consider it done, sir."

The following day, I was in what would become more commonly referred to as 'The Normalverse' in years to come. Once again, I was sent on the mission solo--and I preferred it that way. Having other agents under my command would mean a uniform plan of execution. J. Gander wanted me to find SHUSH's weak points to enable a breeched attack. But little did J. Gander know that I had plans of my own. No longer would I follow his command and be subjected to his authority.

I would not be returning to the SHUSH that had kept me a prisoner for nearly five years.

Across the street from SHUSH was the St. Canard First National Bank. I sat in the driver's seat of the Aston Martin in the bank's parking lot with a pair of binoculars and a perfect view of the agency's entrance. Before leaving for the Normalverse, I had insisted on bringing my vehicle of choice, just in case the need for a quick and skilled escape became necessary. I held the binoculars to my eyes, watching every citizen and agent who stepped through those doors. I was waiting for one agent in particular to make his appearance.

Hours passed. My eyes were beginning to feel dry and weary from keeping a sharp lookout for my target. I began to feel anxious at the thought of the subject not being at SHUSH at all that day. I took a quick glance at the gold Rolex on my left wrist. A little after five 'o clock. If he was anything like me, he would be walking out of those doors right about---

The front doors of SHUSH swung open. Three suited figures strolled out and descended the stairs to the sidewalk. Even from a distance, I recognized the one in the middle. I quickly retrieved the binoculars and held them up to my eyes for an affirmative I.D. Bingo. For the first time, I was able to get a good look at my identical opposite. Great physical shape, handsome--those were apparent similarities. But the feathers atop his head were fashionably slicked back and he lacked my thick, dark eyebrows. The feathers of his cheeks were smoother and he had a more leveled chin. I let out a scoff. They were minor differences that no one would notice. I was able to sneak into SHUSH days earlier under his identity, and I had no doubt I could do it again.

The three agents came to a stop at the bottom of the wide-stretched stairs and began their concluding chat of a day's work. I groaned impatiently as I waited for them to finish. Finally, they visibly bid one another farewell with a wave and each went in opposite directions. I tossed the binoculars into the back seat and grinned as I watched Jacob Mallard disappear into SHUSH's east employee parking lot. A few minutes passed until I saw a classyJaguar roll out of the lot with him behind the wheel. At least we shared a classy sense of style.

I waited until his car disappeared around a corner before stepping out of my own car. I quickly gained a confident poise and crossed the street to SHUSH. As soon as I ascended the stairs and stepped inside the building, I knew there was no turning back. The ironic thing was that I _didn't_ want to turn back. Without a second thought, I began to make my way toward Agent Jacob Mallard's office, which I had visited a couple of days earlier. My plan was working perfectly. I didn't receive even one suspicious glance from any agent I passed. Instead, they smiled warmly or nodded. Such a change from the scowl or sneer the agents back home would give in passing.

"Ah, Jacob!"

I recognized the voice but the tone was different. I spun around and looked down to see the familiar director of SHUSH. But this small man was warm and welcoming, unlike the sinister dictator I knew.

"Back again so soon?" J. Gander continued and gave a light chuckle. "I know you love your work, Jacob. But for goodness sake, go home and give yourself a well-deserved break!"

My act did not falter for the slightest second. "Well, you know how forgetful I am, John. I left my blasted keys in the office again." I distinctly remembered Jacob and J. Gander conversing on a first-name basis and silently congratulated myself for paying attention to the crucial details. "But I'll see you tomorrow. Bright and early."

The goose nodded and continued on his way, but not before calling over his shoulder, "Say hello to the wife and kids for me."

A sinister smile spread across my bill. "I will..."

A few minutes later, I pushed open the door of Jacob Mallard's office. Once again, the disarrayed condition of the room made me cringe in disgust. I stepped over the clutter and carelessly discarded crumpled pieces of paper to the desk. Reaching into my jacket, I removed a folder that had the word 'CONFIDENTIAL' stamped on its front. Inside was a false mission statement I had assembled before leaving for the Normalverse. The statement was an urgent command for Agent Jacob Mallard to investigate a possible area which FOWL was using as a test site for bio-hazardous toxins. I purposely assigned him to a desolate area just on the other side of the Canadian border. He was instructed to begin his investigation at precisely 1600 hours the following day. Also included in the folder was a government agent clearance card to pass into the country. It was emphasized that the 'mission' was top secret and not to be spoken about to _anyone_ until it was completed. The statement was signed by Director John Gander Hooter. Over the years, I had acquired the talent of flawlessly forging Director Hooter's signature.

I swept my arm across the top of the desk to clear it of the clutter and placed the folder in the center of the desk. Satisfied that my plan would be successful, I sat back in the chair carelessly. Once again, my eyes fell upon the framed photograph of Gail, Jacob's wife, sitting on top of the desk. I reached out and snatched it up in my hands for a closer look. But instead of feeling the heartache and loneliness, I smiled devilishly. I traced my finger over her face and shook my head.

"It's such a shame, isn't it?"

That evening, I had purchased a hotel room at the St. Canard Plaza Hotel. I refused to settle for anything less than classy, even if I was planning an assassination. The ticking clock that was hanging on the wall read 11:10 p.m. The window curtains were shamelessly left open, allowing the bright lights of the city to bighten the room. The only other source of light was a small bedside lamp. I sat in a designer easy chair in one corner of the room beside the window, polishing my silver 9mm while the notes of a Mozart symphony played over the radio.

If I were sane, I wouldn't have been preparing myself to murder a man who had never done anything to me. A man who, in reality, _was_ me. But he wasn't_ like _me. While Jacob Mallard had aperfectly successful career, a loving family, and impressive abilities, I was a mallard who had lost everything. I had lost my life, my sanity, and wasreduced to living under an organization's command as their obedient soldier. While Jacob Mallard's happiness was obvious, so was my misery. He had everything that had been taken away from me, and I was blinded by a jealous rage against this man.

Yet, Jacob Mallard and Jake Mallard were one in the same, right down to their fingerprints. So why was I the mallard that cruel fate chose? Why me and not him? What factor led me to be the one to fall? This is an unanswered question I would continue to ask myself. I still do. But if I had to fall, then I was going to make sure that Jacob did, too.

I turned my head to gaze out the window that overlooked many of the city's skyscrapers--the city that would become my new home. Many murderers prepare themselves to perform their wicked deeds by drinking or obtaining an illegal high from their drug of choice. It's a method used to numb their conscience and prevent any second thoughts that may hold them back. But not I.

I no longer had a conscience.

The following afternoon, at precisely 3:45 p.m., I was about a mile into the woods near the Thunderbird Falls. The area was just over the Canadian border.The only people who frequented the area were the typical nature and outdoor enthusiasts, so I was confident that I had no reason to worry about someone stumbling unexpectedly into my plan.

I was twenty feet above the ground, crouched on the thick branch of a deciduous tree and well hidden by its green foliage. In my hands was a sleek 7.62 x 51mm sniper rifle. Based on German models, it had been one of my personal favorites when Mallard Enterprises was supplying them to the government and it was one of the most deadly on the market. I kept my ears open for even the slightest sound and my eyes peeled for any movement. From my hidden position, I could see several hundred feet in every direction. Now all I had to do was wait. I knew he would come. After all, we were the same person. I knew how he would think.

I checked my watch, which read 3:57. Any minute now. I just had to wait patiently, no matter how numb my arms became or how cramped my knees began to feel.

Suddenly, there was the faint sound of a twig snapping, but I heard it. My head perked up and my eyes immediately scanned my line of sight. A swift movement on the ground to my right caught my attention. In a flash, my rifle was steadied under my arm and aimed at the large, fluttering bush from which I knew he would emerge. My finger wrapped securely around the trigger and...

A squirrel quickly scampered out from the base of the bush. I blinked and gave a disappointed grunt before lowering my weapon. Maybe he _wouldn't_ show up. Maybe he brought the matter to J. Gander and had discovered it was all a hoax. Jacob Mallard certainly wasn't an incompetent agent.

The squirrel on the ground below gave a surprised squeak as a polished black shoe nearly came down on its tail. It scampered away just as Agent Jacob Mallard stepped out from the brush into the small clearing. I silently inhaled and held my breath and my eyes locked on my target thirty feet in front of me. He looked utterly puzzled. I watched his every move as he looked around and scratched his head. He began to mutter indistinctly and began to wander searchingly around the small perimeter while I switched on the rifle's silencer.

Jacob began to search the base of every tree, every rock, and every bush for anything that would indicate that FOWL had been using the area as a testing site. I had to smirk quietly to myself. My double's thorough antics were admirable, but would be wasted. I steadied the rifle and held the aiming scope up to my eyes.

"This _can't_ be right," Jacob concluded to himself with a confident shake of his head. "I_ knew_ I should have clarified the location with John beforehand."

He reached inside of his jacket and retrieved his hand-held radio. Just as he placed his thumb on the transmission button and opened his mouth to speak, the radio exploded into several pieces. Jacob let out a startled yelp and jumped back while I silently congratulated myself on such a flawless shot.

Jacob threw what was left of his radio to the ground and immediately retrieved his handgun from the holster beneath his jacket. He gripped the gun tightly in both hands, now on complete alert. His head snapped in every direction in search for his attacker. I struggled to suppress a wicked chuckle as I watched and waited for the right opportunity to strike, just like a predator stalking its prey.

Then I saw it. And I took it.

My finger squeezed the trigger. The bullet silently shot downward, determined to hit its mark. But Jacob had been trained well and managed to pick up the slightest sound of the discharge. Instinctively, he moved. It was a move we would both come to regret for the rest of our lives. My shot, which would have pierced the center of his torso, ripped into the lower thigh of his left leg. He threw his head back and let out a shrill cry of pain before involuntarily collapsing to his knees. The pain must have been unbearable because he soon fell onto his side, groaning.

I poised the rifle over my shoulder and began to stealthily climb my way down the tree. I jumped the last five feet, landing not far from where Jacob lay. I calmly approached where he had fallen. He must have heard my footsteps because he attempted to crawl away with whatever strength he could muster. The adrenaline flowing through his veins and his determined mindset to survive kept him fighting, which impressed me. He even moved to retrieve his fallen weapon from the ground. But before he could lift his gun, my foot came down, crushing his hand. Jacob attempted to keep in a howl of pain but failed. The agonizing wail sent a chill of delight up my spin. Tiredly, he panted for breath and weakly lifted his head to face his assassin. When his eyes locked with mine, I heard an audible gasp of shock. He stared at me with confusion and disbelief. Before he could utter a word, I thrust a closed fist forward and struck him in the side of the face. His head lolled to the side, unconscious.

I couldn't help but sneer in disgust as I crouched down beside him. "And you call yourself a SHUSH agent. You wouldn't last two days where I'm from, pal," I seethed to his unmoving form. I pulled back his unopened jacket and began to rummage through the inside pockets. When I found what I was looking for, I withdrew a designer billfold. Inside was Jacob's badge with his name and SHUSH identification number engraved on its front.

Suddenly, I heard voices--distant voices that were coming closer and closer. I turned my head and held my breath to listen.

"I think I heard it come from this direction!"

I began to curse aloud to myself. Quickly, I pocketed Jacob's ID and badge before jumping to my feet. I sprang into the thick brush seconds before a pair of young hikers stepped into the clearing. The woman of the pair gasped and covered her mouth in shock. Her boyfriend quickly approached Jacob's body and immediately checked for a pulse.

"Oh, my goodness. Is he alright, James?" she asked.

"He's got a pulse, so he's still alive." James gently turned Jacob onto his back and spotted his injuries. "He's been shot. Beth, take my pack. We'll have to take him back to the car and get him to a hospital."

Beth obediently relinquished James of his pack so he was able to hoist Jacob onto his back as gently as possible. I watched from the brush as they began to retreat in the direction leading back to the road. But as they disappeared, I heard the tail end of their conversation.

"Which hospital? We're at least twenty minutes away from the city. He may not last that long."

"There's a small emergency clinic about two miles north of here just outside of the military base. We can be there in five minutes once we get back to the car."

Once they had disappeared from sight, I stepped out into the clearing. My eyes narrowed and I let out a low growl. Jacob may have gotten away _this_ time. But I now knew where he was going. And I would finish the job.


	14. Strike Two

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Finally! With the completion of this chapter, I'm now able to begin writing my most anticipated chapter of this story: Jake meets Negaduck! Stay tuned!

**DISCLAIMER: **Jake Mallard is © Rachel Faraday (me). Jacob Mallard appears courtesy of and is © Amanda Rohrssen . The easily manipulated nurse is also © me.

Thank you to Darkwing Psycho for her proof-reading.

Please Review!

**CHAPTER 14**

Jacob Mallard may have managed to escape assassination once, but I wasn't about to give up so easily. My insanity had forced me to become obsessive in destroying this man and I was determined to succeed. The mere fact that he had been saved by some nature-lovers who happened to be in the right place at the right time wouldn't stop me.

After I had lost sight of the hikers, I returned to where I had hidden my vehicle. As I sat in the driver's seat of the unmoving car, I retrieved a map from the glove box to pinpoint the location of the hospital where Jacob would be taken. Sure enough, there was a small emergency hospital located near a military base about ten miles away.

I decided to bide my time. While I retreated to a small nearby town to get something to eat, I began to formulate my plan of attack. I couldn't expect to walk into a hospital, gun drawn, and shoot him so easily. No, I was more capable than something so simplistic. I was too cunning to go about it the easy way. Creativity was something I was never short of possessing. And I had to make sure that my crime wouldn't be traced back to me.

I waited several hours before making my journey to the hospital. By that time, it was close to midnight. I knew that the less people present the better. I parked my Aston Martin at the curbside in front of the medium-sized hospital and calmly strolled through the front doors. Just as I had surmised, the hospital seemed empty. There was only one nurse on duty at the front desk who had disappeared into an adjoining supply closet. I took the opportunity to approach the counter and leaned over in search of something particular. The daily log was laying on the desk in plain view and I quickly snatched it up in my hands. I looked over the list of names of patients that had been committed that day. One name caught my eye. 'John Doe.' Since I had stolen Jacob's badge and identification, they had no way of identifying him. And it was still too soon for SHUSH to file an MIA report.

The sound of a light cough warned me that the on-duty nurse was returning to her post. I returned the log to its rightful place and put on a professional yet concerned expression as she returned. She stared at me expectantly. "May I help you, sir?"

"Agent Mallard of SHUSH," I introduced myself, flashing her Jacob's badge and identification. "I understand that a 'John Doe' was committed to this facility for medical treatment earlier this evening?"

The young nurse, who appeared to be in her mid-20s and fairly new to the job, blinked questionably. She seemed to not be sure of what to do. "Well, yes, sir. We're currently--"

"He is an agent of SHUSH who had been reported missing," I interrupted her to explain my reason for being there. "He also happens to be my twin brother. I'm afraid I can't tell you more than that."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she sympathized and immediately picked up a status clipboard. She flipped through several pages before she stopped. "Currently, he's in recovery. He had to have a bullet removed from his leg and some cuts and bruises were treated. We need to set his leg before he can--"

I gave her an understanding nod and cut her off again. "That _is_ good news. Now, if you would kindly go retrieve him, I will be taking him back to SHUSH. Our medical ward can handle the rest."

The nurse's faint smile fell into a frown. "Oh, but sir, he's still in a fragile state. He has yet to regain consciousness. We're not supposed to release patients without the final approval from the surgeon on duty, and he won't be back in until morning."

Blast. This was going to be trickier than I had anticipated. I quickly moved on to Plan B. When all else had failed, I released my secret weapon.

Charm.

I leaned forward over the counter with an alluring smile. I lowered my voice to a seductive growl and stared directly into her innocent brown eyes. "Young lady, I know you are just doing your job and your decision lies with the well-being of the patient. But I assure youthat he will be in more danger if he stays here."

Her cheeks began to blush a light hue of pink and she couldn't suppress her shy smile. "I must insist, Agent Mallard, that he is in good care."

"You can only assume, my dear. His assassin is still on the loose and I don't doubt that he will find out the agent's whereabouts. For all I know, he could be on his way here right now to finish his job. And I would hate to see an innocent like you get caught in the crossfire."

I flashed her my trademark smile once again, this time forcing a giggle from her. My charisma had yet to fail me.

Twenty minutes later, I was pushing Jacob Mallard out of the emergency clinic in a wheelchair. When the nurse had given him to me inside, he was still unconscious, and his head lolled to the side against his shoulder. I was also informed that his left leg had been permanently crippled and that he would more likely than not require aid to walk. As I wheeled him toward the black sports car, the cool, midnight breeze caused him to stir. I looked down at him with a sick grin when I heard him give a light moan. I wanted him conscious when I dealt him his card of fate.

Being still within the sight of the hospital, I carefully eased Jacob out of the wheelchair and into the front passenger seat of the Aston Martin. I even went so far as to fasten the seatbelt securely around him. If unfortunate circumstances arose, I didn't want him to crash through the windshield, let alone try to escape. Satisfied that he wouldn't be going anywhere, I casually closed the passenger door and crossed the car to get into the driver seat.

I started the car and looked over at Jacob. He was slowly regaining consciousness, but the drugs and painkillers were keeping him down. Perfect and to my advantage. His head swayed to the right and came to a rest against against the window. I could see him struggling to open his eyes.

"Hey, hey! Look alive, my friend!" I chuckled as I reached over and gave the side of his face a few light slaps. I grabbed him by the collar of the generic white t-shirt the hospital had changed him into for recovery and roughly pulled him to an upright position. I twisted my grip, forcing him to face me just as his eyes managed to open into small slits. I knew he could see me, however disoriented his vision might have been. "You want to be looking your best when you come face-to-face with Death," I growled malevolently before roughly letting him go. He fell back and slumped against the door.

I didn't know if he had slipped into unconsciousness again as I put the car into gear and drove off into the night. I assumed so. The first fifteen minutes of the drive were silent aside from the level humming of the car's engine. The roads were deserted aside from the occasional passerby vehicle traveling in the opposite direction. We certainly weren't heading in the direction of civilization.

I almost didn't hear the light, painful groan from the seat beside me. Thinking that I was just hearing things, I kept my gaze forward on the winding road in front of me. But then, I heard his weak, raspy voice.

"Who are you...?"

"I'm your worst nightmare," I answered, using a disgustingly cliché phrase. But this time, it had more meaning. I turned my head and stared into his cloudy, half open eyes and added darkly, "I am _you_."

Even though the medication limited his mobility and strength, I could see the reaction in his eyes. Shock, disbelief, confusion. And I still can't be sure to this day, but I thought I saw the slightest spark of fear deep within his mind. I chuckled and shook my head before gazing forward once again with a bizarre, upbeat demeanor--further proof of my insanity.

"Please forgive me for my hastiness in getting you out of that hospital," I said in a nonchalant voice, as if the current situation was nothing out of the ordinary. "But I must act quickly. It won't be long until SHUSH discovers that one of their prized agents has gone missing."

Jacob took in labored breaths to gather enough energy to speak. "What are…what are you talking about…?"

"Jacob Josiah Mallard. Age 38, married to a lovely blonde teacher by the name of Gail. Two children, Carolyn and Drake Mallard."

I turned my head to see the reaction on his face. Jacob's eyes had narrowed ever so slightly. The fact that I had conveniently fired off personal information about him and his family had sent a cold shiver through his body, but he was making a great effort to conceal that fact. I simply smiled and looked away from him. The reflection of the car's headlights off of the road shadowed my eyes, giving me a dark appearance.

"Pretty impressive, huh? I know all about you, and not just because we are one in the same mallard, my friend. I've been following you for a little while now. I've been observing you and your seemingly perfect life. I'm here to introduce you to the reality that all good things must come to an end, just like what happened to me."

Even as I monologued my notorious How I Turned Evil' story, my eyes would occasionally shift to the side. Although Jacob seemed helpless, I knew better than to underestimate him. He wasn't one of SHUSH's top agents for no reason. I saw him instinctively reach to his waist, where his handgun was usually holstered to his agent uniform. However, he had since been changed into hospital garments and he no longer had his weapon.

"Looking for something?"

Jacob looked up to see me holding up his handgun in one hand, which I had pilfered from his personal belongings while at the hospital. He gave me a weak but bitter scowl as I tossed the gun into the back seat.

"Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Have you ever heard of parallel universes?" I asked and flashed him a quick smile. "No, of course not. You're universe hasn't tapped into such technology yet. But mine has. I'm here from another world that contrasts yours. I'm Agent Jake Mallard. I am you."

My eyes pierced his through the darkness. I could see the shock and disbelief on his face and I turned away.

"But you know what? I admire you," I admitted, though I was unable to look at Jacob as I complimented him. "You've got an illustrious career in which you excel, you have a beautiful family, many close friends, you have all of the ingredients for a perfect life--and you haven't screwed it up yet!" I let out a laugh and slapped the steering wheel jovially. When I had regained myself, my attitude took a 180 degree turn. My eyes narrowed into a resentful glower and I lowered my voice to a threatening tone. I slowly turned my head to stare at my double. "_Yet._ I envy you, Jacob. And with envy comes assassination."

I had set the pieces in place for him. He took a few heaving breaths, desperate to get his adrenaline flowing so that he may fight back. "You...It was you who set up that false assignment…and ambushed me."

"Bravo," I applauded him darkly. "Whenever I shoot someone, it's usually never anything personal. It's just part of the job, you know? But this time, it _is_ personal."

The car rolled to a stop onto the dirt shoulder of the lone road alongside the woods. I killed the car's engine and the only noises were the crickets chirping in the night. After I shut off the headlights, I passed Jacob a malicious smile before climbing out of the car. Through the dark windows, I could see him struggling to sit upright as I made my way around to the passenger's side. I ripped the door open and reached in to grab him, but I didn't expect his fist to swing through the air. His knuckles hit me in the lower jaw and, even though it was a relatively weak punch, it still took me by surprise. I had to shake my head to regain myself and let out an aggravated growl before I tried again. I unfastened the seatbelt, clamped my hands firmly around Jacob's shoulders and yanked him out of the car.He stumbled from my pushing force and fell face-first into the dirt.

"Come on, now. We can't do this here where someone may see us!" I took a hold of Jacob by his hospital shirt and began to drag him toward the woods. The dirt and rocks were brutal on his flesh as I pulled him mercilessly behind me. Tree branches and brush reached out and scratched his face. I could occasionally feel him pull against me in protest but it was a failed attempt. He was weak with painkillers and I was too strong.

About a hundred yards into the woods, I let go of Jacob and let him collapse onto the ground. He pressed his palms into the dirt and fought to lift himself, but I quickly delivered a swift kick to his ribs. The force sent him reeling backward and he landed flat on his back. He gasped loudly, desperate to pull the air back into his lungs. He stared upward at the clear night sky. The only light came from the full moon hovering overhead.

I stepped into view, looming above him. Then, I calmly crouched down beside him. I pulled out my handgun and traced its tip over Jacob's heaving chest. His eyes shifted to see my weapon, and he knew that he'd dare not make a move.

"You managed to escape my wrath once," I growled spitefully at him. "I doubt you will be so lucky to do it again. But just in case, allow me to give you a warning: You'd better not let me, or anyone else for that matter, find you!"

Jacob managed to twist his bill into a defiant snarl. "I'm not so easy to exterminate...No matter what you do, I'll still come back," he breathed through the pain he was experiencing.

I shrugged carelessly. "So be it. But I'll make sure that you won't be the one who suffers again. It'd be a shame if your family has to pay for your foolhardy decisions."

Although his movements were limited, I could see the reaction in his eyes. I saw a flicker of fear that further aroused my desire to see him suffer. I wanted to take away from him what was taken away from me. "Oh yes, I know all about your family, my friend. They were once mine, too. I know exactly where they are and I won't hesitate to go after them. And if you underestimate my ability to do that, then the consequences they will face will be excruciatingly disastrous."

The absence of sanity in my eyes proved to Jacob the seriousness of my threat. "You...leave them out of this...!" he hissed.

"Make yourself scarce and I will. It's as simple as that. Iam a man of my word. Whether or not you trust that will determine the fate of your family."

I chuckled triumphantly and stood up. Jacob continued to watch me as I passed by him and walked in the direction we had come. With my back to him, I didn't see him reaching for a large, sharp edged rock at his side.

With a second thought popping into my head, I came to a stop and paused. "But you know what, I'm not so sure I trust _you. _I think I'll just end this now."

I spun around just as Jacob had pulled his arm back to hurl the rock directly at my head. But I was too quick. I raised my handgun and fired.

BLAM! BLAM BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Five shots embedded themselves into my identical counterpart's body. Jacob's back arched as each bullet pierced his flesh and I watched his body fall to the ground. Blood began to pour profusely from each wound in his lifeless form. I stared for a long moment, enjoying the sight without an ounce of remorse flowing through my veins.

My petty jealousy and buried self-loathing caused me to kill Jacob Mallard. It was an unjustified murder of someone who had done nothing wrong. Or so I _thought _I had murdered him.I didn't know it at the time, but that would not be the last I would see of Jacob. I had failed in assassinating him once again, but I wouldn't discover that for another seventeen years. A man's worst enemy is often himself. Being the same mallard as myself, Jacob Mallard would eventually become one of my worst enemies. We would spend years hunting one another. He would be after revenge while I would be determined to finish the job.

As I mentioned earlier, Jacob would only be _one_ of my notorious nemeses. I would soon come face-to-face with another mallard who was thirsty for my blood and wouldn't rest until he killed me. The most relentless mallard I would ever know.

I had yet to meet Negaduck.


	15. Negaduck

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Wow, it's been a long time since I've updated! Over four months! And I apologize for how long it's been since I've added to this story. I had a very busy spring semester while working two jobs. But I recently got a new job, and I'm taking one class this summer, which means I have more time to write this story rather than essays. This story is beginning to come to a close and I hope to have it done within the next month or two. But don't let that fool you--there is still plenty of action ahead!

Also, chapters 1, 6, and 8 have been updated. If you don't want to go back and find what was updated, here's what I did: I changed Jake's middle name for additional purposes outside of this fiction. That's really it. Thank you to all my loyal readers, and I hope you enjoy chapter fifteen!

**DISCLAIMER**: Jake Mallard is © me. Jacob Mallard and Gail Mallard are © Amanda Rohrssen and are being used with her permission. You can learn about these two characters in her story, _The Sins of the Father_. Darkwing Duck and Negaduck are © Disney.

**CHAPTER 15**

For weeks, the local evening news covered the disappearance of Jacob Mallard. After only three days, he was declared an M.I.A. agent of SHUSH. Once two months had passed, he was officially considered K.I.A.--or 'killed in action' for those of you not familiar with the lingo. Day after day I watched the news coverage on television. And I loved every moment of it.

I even took it upon myself to unnoticeably check in on his family the day after Jacob's death had been declared. I sat in my dark vehicle across the street from the suburban home. The later evening hours had settled and it was a clear night; I could even see the stars through the bright lights of the city. But my attention was focused on the house to my left. I could see perfectly through the large front window, which looked into the lit dining area. It was late, and the two children were surely being put to bed. Then, she came into view. The beautiful and familiar blonde woman who appeared to be a carbon-copy of my own wife. Gail was her name, but she was Jacob's wife. Not mine.

Her face was distraught with sorrow and pain. I felt myself frown as I watched her sit down at the dining table. She sat there, facing forward and unmoving for a long moment. Then her hands came up to cover her face, and I could see that she began sobbing. I watched her convulse in emotional agony, having lost her true love. And my bill twisted into a heartless smile.

I continued to shelter myself from the majority of society for several months after the Jacob Mallard incident. I knew what I planned to do once I had removed him from the picture, but to succeed, I would have to be patient. To rush into the situation could be disastrous on my part. So I purchased myself a condo in the city and awaited for the right time.

The time came, and I applied at SHUSH. It seem uncanny to Director J. Gander Hooter how closely I physically resembled a past agent of his, and that were share similar names. But I merely had to point out the likelihood of such a common name and present him with flawless, falsified background documents. I merely covered up my past with a new one. I demonstrated my abilities and passed every screening test. Even though I was approaching the age of 40, I proved myself, and I was hired as a field operations agent. It was disgustingly simple.

Why did I stay? Why didn't I return to my home universe? When I weighed the costs and benefits, one significantly outweighed the other. There was nothing left for me back home. And if SHUSH found me after my betrayal, they wouldn't hesitate to slowly and painfully kill me. I didn't know it at the time, but my home universe was experiencing some drastic changes. It was becoming the 'Negaverse' we know it as now. If I were still in the Negaverse while it was changing, I would surely be dead. My enemies were many, and my allies were few. There were many people hunting for me in the Negaverse. Returning would be a fatal mistake. Besides, I was reaping personal benefits at my present location in the Normalverse.

The years passed, and I began to have the same affect on SHUSH as I had in the Negaverse. Other agents were influenced by my hard-headed personality and my astounding ability to get the job done perfectly. J. Gander began to favor me, and I didn't doubt that one day I would overthrow Agent Gryzlikoff as the Chief Agent. My salary was on the rise and I was soon able to afford a luxurious, swank condo in a prestige area of the city. Everything was going the way I wanted. And while my occupation's purpose was to protect the well-being of citizens, I had my own ulterior motives in mind. I was respected and quickly becoming a well-known face throughout the city. I was successful at everything I did, and my ego was enjoying the fame.

SHUSH didn't hire many men in their forties to serve as agents. But by the time I was forty-seven, I was one of the leading field operatives. Frequently, I would be dispatched in the middle of the night to a crime in progress, or a crime that had been recently committed. Working at SHUSH had become my life. I would gladly volunteer to cover for other agents on holidays so that they could spend the days off with their families. I didn't mind. It wasn't as if I had anything else to do with my life or a family to spend my free time with. Besides, my expertise on the criminal mind was valued by SHUSH. They never would have suspected my intelligence of felons came from my own treacherous experiences of the past.

Yes, things were going my way. But I was about to experience the surprise of my life.

The phone on the cherry wood nightstand beside my bed rang loudly, interrupting the nightmare-plagued slumber I've been experiencing for over twenty years now. With my face buried in a down pillow, my hand blindly groped the darkness until I found the bedside lamp. As the bulb dimly lit the vast bedroom, I turned my head and squinted my eyes to read the clock: 1:49 a.m. The phone rang a fourth time before I tiredly picked up the receiver and lazily set it against my ear.

"Mallard, here," I droned.

"Agent Mallard, there's a situation at City Hall. Director Hooter needs you present immediately," the dispatcher informed.

"Right. I'm on my way."

I set the receiver back in its cradle and pulled myself out of bed. This was quickly becoming a routine to me, and I was growing accustomed to the lack of sleep. Within ten minutes, I was dressed in one of my many black Armani suits and on my way out of my apartment.

Another ten minutes later, my black BMW carefully rolled through the crowd of citizens that had gathered outside of City Hall. Police officers were herding the people to either side to let me pass without running over anyone. Once I was as close as I could get, I opened the door and stepped out with my head held high and an authoritative stance. City Hall was circled with barricades and police tape, and police cars surrounded the area with their red and blue lights flashing. It was quite a chaotic scene, especially during the early morning hours.

An officer quickly approached me the second I had emerged from my car. He was a stout pig, whose police uniform was at least a size too small and mercilessly hugged his fat body. "From SHUSH?" he assumed and offered me a quick handshake. "Lieutenant Billings."

"Agent Mallard. What's going on here, Lieutenant?" I asked while the officer led me through cars and police equipment.

"A lunatic has locked down City Hall and is holding the Mayor and some of his staff hostage," he answered hurriedly.

I raised my brows curiously, still keeping a quick pace. "This late? Since when does the Mayor work after hours? He rarely works during the day," I said with dry humor.

Another officer lifted a strip of police tape, allowing us to duck underneath. Finally, the lieutenant came to a stop and turned to face me. "Apparently the culprit has been holding them inside since earlier this evening. He terrorized the entire building and held every person inside. It wasn't until an hour ago that he let most of the hostages go free to spread the word of his plans to the authorities. He's still holding the mayor and his closest staff."

I looked toward City Hall. All of the lights inside were off, and the power had been cut for the surrounding streetlights as well. After a moment of studying the area in front of me, I turned to the police officer, and asked in a low voice over the gossiping crowd on the street behind us. "Who is he?"

The lieutenant regretfully shrugged. "No one has seen him. Not even the hostages who were released."

"Any demands?"

"None yet. There's been nothing," he answered.

I heaved my shoulders and combed my fingers through the feathers atop my head. I was baffled, even though I wouldn't openly admit it. St. Canard was full of low-life criminal scum, and I knew of every one--at least the ones who were clever enough to orchestrate a crime as elaborate as the one I was facing. And it was unusual for any top-notch criminal to hold out a structure like City Hall for so long without making any demands.

This was someone new to St. Canard's pool of felons.

After a moment of contemplating my limited options, I turned to the lieutenant. "First of all, clear the sidewalks of all the nosey citizens. The last thing we need is someone to get caught in any potential crossfire. I want a SWAT team down here and setting themselves around the perimeter within the next ten minutes. See if we can get any sort of surveillance inside so that we--"

"Look! The window!"

The officer and I turned our heads to the side to look in the direction indicated by the shout from the crowd. One of the building's smaller windows slid open, and we squinted our eyes to catch a glimpse of the culprit. But we had no such luck. Instead, a medium-sized object was projected out the window toward the crowded street below. My eyes widened when I saw the lighted wick flickering in the dark.

"It's a bomb! Everybody get back!" the lieutenant cried and waved wildly at the crowd.

People began screaming, and they scrambled over one another to clear the area. I didn't move until I saw the round black bomb hit the ground and roll beneath a police cruiser. Then I turned tail and dove out of the way a split second before the explosion shook the ground. The loud blast was deafening and the car was quickly swallowed by a billowing fireball. I could feel the heat at my back as I scampered behind another police car. I had the shield my eyes from the blinding fire as it rose high into the sky. Bystanders watched, frightened and mesmerized. Once the explosion calmed, several officers moved in with fire extinguishers as their weapons.

But while they were extinguishing the fire and people began to regain themselves, a devilish laughter echoed over the voices of everyone else.

"You like that St. Canard? Because you'll be in for plenty more of it, you simple-minded saps! Ya Hahahahahaha!"

His wicked laugh was cold, chilling, and mad. It was the laugh that belonged to someone spiteful and angry, and void of any conscience. Someone who wouldn't have cared if his bomb killed dozens of innocent people. The laugh belonged to a true, cold-hearted villain. I got to my feet with my eyes locked on the dark window where he was hiding in the shadows. All I could see was the outline of a figure, who appeared to be wearing some sort of wide-brimmed hat.

The crowd in the street began to move forward again, eager to see the actor behind this terrorizing act. But officers promptly pushed them back, and the lieutenant reappeared at my side with a megaphone in his hand.

"Alright you! Tell us who you are and what you want!" the lieutenant's voice echoed through the megaphone. "Just talk to us and we'll get through this without anyone getting hurt!"

Every person witnessing the scene grew quiet so that they would hear every word of the conversation. The deep, growling voice replied from the window. "Talk! That's too boring! Why would I wanna waste my time talking to you barrel-assed, donut-munching sissies when I would be causing wanton destruction?"

Just then, another bomb flew through the open window, this time exploding into the pavement of the street. Everyone managed to scamper out of the way, once again shouting in panic. The explosion sent large chunks of concrete tearing through the air, making them airborne weapons. A few unlucky citizens were knocked off their feet with a slice of pavement knocked them in the head or in the back.

Now the crowd was staying a reasonable distance away.

"Keep talking! I can go on like this all night!" the unknown criminal taunted.

"Now listen here, son!" the lieutenant called as he adjusted his lopsided police cap on his head. "You--!"

"No, YOU listen to me!" he corrected, his voice taking on a serious and deadly tone. "It's about time this city had a real criminal to give all of you citizens a wake-up call to the harsh realities of the world! You all go about your daily routines of your normal lives without a care in your dull, unsuspecting minds. You sentimental suckers could use some destruction and mayhem in your lives, and I'm just the duck for the job!"

There was a short pause as the duck stepped closer toward the window. I still couldn't see him, but I was able to catch the evil glint in his eyes from a distance.

"I am NEGADUCK. Don't worry about memorizing it, because you will be hearing my name a lot from now on!"

The lieutenant and I looked at one another questionably as Negaduck let out another mad cackle. "Have you heard of him before?" he asked me, assuming that being a federal officer made me more knowledgeable on the subject of threats outside of St. Canard.

But I shook my head. I had been in the Normalverse for ten years, and I hadn't heard of this freshly classified felon. "No. This is a new one. Find out what he wants."

The cop obediently raised the megaphone to his lips again. "Tell us what you want, Negaduck! We can make arrangements as long as you don't harm any of the hostages!"

There came another laugh. A snide, jeering, yet amused laughed. "Demands? I don't have any demands, you knobs! I'm not doing this for monetary gain--I can easily rob a bank without breaking a sweat if that was what I wanted!" Negaduck monologues, sounding quite pleased with himself. I could tell this wicked man had a dangerously large ego. "What I want from all of this is to establish my identify. To make my name reputable. And what better way to do that then to blow up City Hall with the Mayor inside, sizzling until he's crisp bacon!"

People behind us gasped. While I remained calm and collected, I could see the lieutenant beginning to break and nervous sweat. "If you have your mind set on destroying City Hall, then so be it, Negaduck! But let the hostages go!"

"I'll think about it!" Negaduck snapped back. There was a short pause, as if he were actually contemplating his answer. A few seconds later, he piped up again. "Okay, I thought about it. Looks like it's gonna be another election year! Sayonara, saps!"

The window slammed shut with enough force that I could hear the glass shatter from down on the street. The lieutenant groaned and rubbed his forehead with one hand, realizing that the situation was anything but under control. Negaduck was in control. But I was determined to bring that to an end, not to save the lives of a few hostages (I didn't vote for Mayor Collie, anyway), but to further build my reputation with the downfall of this villain's.

"Well, that went well," I commented smoothly and began unbuttoning my black suit jacket.

The lieutenant grunted in reply to my sarcastic remark, but he did a double-take when he saw me remove a .45 automatic and began loading a full magazine. "Agent, what are you doing?"

"I'm going in there," I said matter-of-factly as I jammed the magazine into the gun and motioned toward City Hall.

"Hold on a minute! You can't go in there!" he protested, his voice filled with panic. "You can jeopardize the lives of the hostages! We don't know what this maniac will do!"

"Lieutenant, you're right. We don't know what he's going to do," I agreed but continued insistently. "But we do know what he is not going to do, and he's not going to sit around and negotiate with us when he's got several hostages at his disposal. He says that he isn't after any financial gain. The only gain he wants is reputable. And if that's true, which I believe it is, then there is no better way to achieve that than to lock down the city's most prominent building and execute the city's leader inside."

The chief watched me replace the loaded gun inside of my jacket. I could tell from his frowning expression that my words had sunk in. "Let me send in some of my men. We can get the SWAT down here in five minutes."

"No. There's no time to wait. I'm going in."

"But Agent Mallard, I insist that--"

"I'm the ranking officer here, Lieutenant," I interrupted. I was beginning to grow impatient, which is what usually happened when someone doubted me. I hated it. "Keep all of your officers back unless I give the order, is that understood?"

It was like instructing a small child, but regardless, he nodded. I loved my authority and the effect it had on people. The lieutenant handed me his walkie-talkie, which I muted and clipped onto my belt. "No one moves until I give the word," I reiterated firmly.

"Are you sure about this, Mallard?" the lieutenant asked one final time.

I didn't verbally respond, but I smiled boyishly before I turned away and swiftly made my way around the barricades and crept through the thick hedges bordering City Hall.

Minutes later, I was creeping through the dark back hallways of the government building with my gun held calmly in my hands. I kept myself pressed against the smooth walls, and cautiously peered around every corner. Security cameras were mounted on the wall in every hallway, but looking forward, I could see that the power lights were not lit. Negaduck had cut the power to the entire building.

I continued through the broad hallways, eventually making my way up the emergency stairwell to the third floor--the floor from which Negaduck had made contact with us. I kept my ears sharp for any voices, any gunshots. But the only sounds I heard were the almost mute sound of my shoes on the freshly waxed floor. I thought I had heard shuffling from behind, and I silently spun around with my gun aimed perfectly toward the would-be assailant. But there was no one there. I remained still for several seconds and listened. Nothing. Convinced, I relinquished my aim and continued.

My eyes glinted excitedly in the dark. I was confident in everything I did, and I wasn't afraid to die. The situation I found myself in at the time gave me a high I could never experience from any type of drug in the world. Danger was my drug. And I couldn't get enough of it.

Then, I heard it. The deep, growling voice coming from the last room down the hallway on the left. I inhaled deeply and continued to silently stalk down the hallway. As I got closer, I could begin to make out Negaduck's words.

"So much for running for another term, eh, Mayor Collie? Tsk, tsk, tsk. That's really too bad. Not!"

I carefully peered around the opened door into the dark conference room. I could see the mayor, his spokesperson, his secretary, and two security guards bound and gagged on the floor. They were staring with wide eyes toward the other side of the room. I followed their terrified gazes, and I saw him.

Negaduck. He was a white mallard, probably no older than twenty-two, and dressed in a yellow double-breasted jacket over a red turtleneck. A black cape with crimson lining was clasped over his shoulders, and he wore a red fedora. And bordering his eyes was a black mask. He looked like someone on his way to a classy costume party. And surprisingly, he was rather short. But he compensated for his lack of height with a fiery, intimidating temper. I kept myself hidden around the corner and watched the villain's every move. He paced in front of the helpless hostages, eyeing them like a predator eyeing its doomed prey.

Then, there was a continuous beeping sound. Negaduck lifted his wrist and pushed back his sleeve to look at his watch. His eyes rose to the mayor, and he chuckled lowly before strutted to the window.

"Coffee break is over, you flat-footed fops!" Negaduck shouted down to the police below. "Now the real fun begins!"

Negaduck retreated from the window and stormed over to the cowardly mayor, who was trembling in fear. The caped villain reached into his jacket and removed a loaded gun, which caused the other hostages to scoot away from the mayor, desperate to be out of the line of fire that was about to ensue.

"Congratulations, Mayor," Negaduck snarled darkly as he loaded the chamber of the automatic with a pair of loud 'clicks.' "You get to be my first victim in your pathetic city."

The mayor's eyes were wide as saucers as he watched Negaduck raise his gun. His shouts of protest were muffled beneath the gag in his mouth, and he shook his head in one final plea. The gun was aimed right between his eyes, and I watched as Negaduck's finger wrapped tightly around the trigger. I gripped my own weapon tightly in my hands and prepared myself to rush forward.

But I was cut off by a hissing sound. A cloud of blue smoke suddenly billowed over the center of the conference table and a dramatic voice boomed through the room. Negaduck spun around with a startled gasp, and I froze in my tracks.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the flat tire on the getaway car of crime!"

The blue smoke cleared, revealing another duck wearing the exact same caped costume, but in a purple, blue, and gray color scheme. He posed dramatically, holding the corners of his cape out to the side. "I am Darkwiiiiiing Duck!"

But before the two identical mallards could engage in a classic battle of wits and insults, they stared at one another. Their brows raised, and then their bottom jaws fell open simultaneously. This was the first time that Darkwing Duck and Negaduck had come face-to-face.

"What in the--?" They both began speaking in unison. "Hey!"

I blinked my eyes several times, and even resorted to shaking my head in an attempt to clear my double vision. But it was no illusion. I was staring at two identical mallards.

"Who the hell are you?" Negaduck snapped, becoming impatient and perhaps even a little bit freaked out.

"Moi? Why I am Darkwiiiiing Duck!" the hero proclaimed again with a dramatic flourish of his cape. "St. Canard's newfound vigilante! Protector of the citizens against menacing and maniacal miscreants such as yourself!" Darkwing hopped down from the conference table, landing feet away from Negaduck. "And I don't know what kind of insecure and immature imposter you are, but dressing like me isn't going to keep you safe in this city! Now, hand over those hostages!" he demanded and pointed a finger at the villain.

Negaduck's bill twisted into an angry snarl. I could see his hands curl into fists. "You want 'em? Fine! But you'll get them in hundreds of tiny pieces, hero!" In the blink of an eye, the evil mallard's gun was raised again, this time at the harmless secretary.

But he didn't see Darkwing withdraw his own weapon from his cape. It was a rather ridiculous looking decide, which looked more like a toy than a complicated device. "Suck gas, evildoer!" he cried and pulled the trigger on his gasgun. A cylinder shaped canister shot through the air and slid to a stop at Negaduck's feet. Another cloud of blue smoke shot up into the air and quickly filled the whole room. I turned my head away to avoid being affected from the gas, but I could hear the hostages coughing. And Negaduck. Unfortunately, I could hear Darkwing coughing as well.

"Note to self! Use smaller gas canisters! Minor setback!" he coughed and waved his hands wildly in front of his face to clear the air he was breathing.

"Oh yeah? Here's another minor setback, Duck!" Negaduck shouted.

I snapped my head back around to see Negaduck picked up the round, pudgy figure of the mayor and hurl him forward toward the unsuspecting hero. Darkwing let out a startled yelp as the mayor slammed into him and knocked them both to the ground. The distraction was enough for the criminal to make his escape. Through the clearing smoke of Darkwing's gasgun, I saw Negaduck turn toward the door and sprint forward.

"Come back here, you yellow-jacketed yahoo!" Darkwing hollered after his fleeing double while he struggled to pull himself out from underneath the mayor.

I quickly pulled myself out of sight and ducked down in the hallway's shadows. Fortunately, Negaduck was in too much of a hurry to notice my presence, and I watched him make a beeline for the service stairs. He was heading for the roof. Silently, I crept out of the shadows and followed him. When I reached the top of the stairs, I slowly pushed the door leading to the roof open--just a crack so that I could peer out without revealing myself. I saw no sign of Negaduck, but I remained cautious. Once I opened the door wide enough to slip through, I slid around the side of the stairwell block. He had to be there somewhere.

I glanced in every direction of the roof and saw no sign of the black masked mallard. I was beginning to believe that he could have slipped down the back side of the building by using the fire escape, and I made a move to go see for myself. But I stopped when something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned to see an object sitting precariously in the center of the roof. From the distance and in the dark, I could not tell what it was, so I trotted to where it lay. But when I saw what it was, my breath became caught in my throat. It was a hybrid explosive device--an explosive made from fusing the elements of several other exploding devices, and something only very few people have mastered in concocting successfully. I had read about them years ago during my training at SHUSH, and knew just how effective these bombs were. And I knew how difficult it was to diffuse one.

The numbers on the digital counter were now descending from 1:27. If I didn't stop this bomb from going off, it would take out three city blocks, and I would go down with it. But I was thinking about my life. I wasn't thinking about City Hall, or the people occupying the few blocks within the bomb's destructive perimeter. I was thinking about the glory I would receive if I was successful in stopping this new madman and saving the lives of hundreds. So with a cocky grin on my face, I kneeled down in front of the device to work.

A black panel covered the bombs components. When I effortlessly removed the panel, my eyes examined every inch of the three wires: a red one, a blue one, and a green one. Any idiot who had no idea what he was doing would instinctively try to guess which wire to cut, choose the wrong one, and be blown to smithereens. But I knew better. I knew that in order to diffuse a hybrid bomb, all three wires needed to be cut. At the exact same time. If one was severed a hair too soon, it would all be over in a millisecond.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small pocketknife. My thumb pushed the blade open and with my other hand I pulled the three wires close together so that they were horizontally aligned on my fingers. I pushed back the feathers dangling over the top of my eyes and took in deep, steady breaths. It had to be done perfectly. And I knew how to be perfect. I slid the blade underneath the wires and very carefully positioned the red wire beside the blue, and then the green beside the red. My eyes flitted to the clock. I was down to 32 seconds. The timer beeped with each second that ticked away, reminding me that I was quickly running out of time. At this point, it was all or nothing.

The wires were pressed alongside one another, making an even surface. I inhaled and held my breath as I pulled the blade upward and pressed the wires down with my thumb. In a smooth and solid motion, the knife sliced through the wires at once, and they ripped apart. My eyes widened and I froze when I heard the clock stop. I waited for the loud blast of the fiery explosion that would engulf me. But a few seconds went by, and there was nothing but the sound of the gentle breeze sweeping past my eyes. I looked to the clock and saw that it was frozen at 16 seconds. I exhaled loudly in relief, not realizing how long I had been holding my breath.

As the triumph sank in, I grinned arrogantly. I had saved City Hall, the mayor, and at least several city blocks. All in a night's work for Agent Jake Mallard. And I was eagerly anticipating the congratulations and thanks that would be to come. I dusted off my hands and replaced the pocketknife inside my jacket. But when I moved to stand up, a dark voice growled from behind me.

"Get to your feet."

Negaduck's voice made me hesitate. He was standing a few feet behind me, and even though I couldn't see him, I knew he had a weapon pointed at the back of my head. Slowly I obliged and rose to my feet. Then I heard him began to chuckle.

"Congratulations, Agent. You succeeded in saving a few hundred useless citizens," Negaduck remarked cynically. I could sense the malice and true disdain for mankind in his voice. This criminal was unlike any I had ever come across. "Too bad you won't be so lucky. There's no one to save you now, is there? Now, turn around! I wanna see the look of sheer terror in your eyes just before I blow your brains out!"

I rolled my eyes. I still wasn't sure whether this villain was insanely smart or incredibly stupid. That fact would decide whether I would live or die. For the moment, it was in my best interest to follow his demands. I turned around, and received the surprise of my life.

Negaduck stood only feet from me with a handgun aimed between my eyes. I was finally able to see him up close and examine is facial features. There were strikingly familiar. The tufted cheeks and distinct bill. I saw them every day when I looked in the mirror. But it was the eyes beneath the black mask that grabbed me. The deep, dark blue eyes of my late wife. The eyes that I hadn't seen in over twelve years. My bottom jaw slowly went agape and I lowered my hands as the realization hit me. I could feel my heart pounding away within my chest and my blood ran cold.

"Drake...?"

Negaduck's narrowed brows raised. He lifted his head and slowly lowered his aim after he heard me speak his name. His head tilted and he examined me carefully. The same expression of surprise on my face passed onto his own.

"You..." he whispered in shock.

I couldn't seem to move from where I stood. I was stuck, held by the overwhelming feelings flowing through me. I was at a loss for words. We both were.

But what happened next was sudden. I didn't see it coming.

In a lightning-quick move, Negaduck raised his gun at me once again and pulled the trigger.

The loud bang of the gunshot jolted me out of my stupor, and I quickly lunged to the right. The bullet had come close; close enough to pierce the sleeve of my suit but barely miss flesh. I dove behind one of the alabaster statutes that decorated the roof of City Hall and frantically tried to pull my gun from it's holster. My own son had tried to kill me.

"Come on out, old man!" Negaduck's voice echoed in the open air, making it impossible for me to tell where he was. "I've been waiting for this for a long time!"

I found my gun and checked the chamber to be sure that it was loaded. Gripping it tightly in my hands, I cautiously peered around the statue. I couldn't see Negaduck anywhere. But I knew he was there. My eyes darted in every direction, making sure that I didn't miss a single detail. I had to move to where I could get a better view.

Every muscle in my body involuntarily tensed. I had never been this nervous when facing off with any other criminal. But now I knew this criminal wasn't like any other. This one had personal scores to settle with me. He had blood on his mind and wanted revenge against me more than anything else. This criminal was my son who hated me. And he wanted me dead.

I braced myself. If I could only get to the enclosed stairwell, I would be able to see the whole roof--

I didn't hear him come up from behind. Before I could have another thought, Negaduck brought his gun down and slammed it into the back of my head. I went down before I knew what hit me. And everything went black.


	16. The Promise

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Once again, I apologize for my lack of updates, especially so near the end of this story. There will be one more conclusive chapter after this, so stay tuned for the end of 'The Path of Consequence! And of course, thank you to my past reviewers!

**DISCLAIMER: **Jake Mallard is © me. Darkwing Duck and Negaduck are © Disney. That's about it.

**CHAPTER 16**

I didn't regain consciousness until over an hour later. The pounding pain in the back of my head was what woke me; it felt like a merciless jackhammer. As I began to regain feeling throughout my body, I slowly began to recollect what had happened. I had come close to capturing the criminal back at City Hall, but he was the one who ambushed me. Negaduck. Drake. My own son.

It took a moment to realize that I was in an awkward sitting position. I was in a chair, and as I tried to lift my head, pain shot down from my head and into my spine. I winced and moved to lift my hand to cradle my sore forehead, but I found that I could not. When I opened my eyes, I saw the rope that was tightly wrapped around me, bounding my arms at my sides and holding me prisoner in the chair in which I sat. They were tied so tight that every move and jerk I made to loosen their hold only made it more painful.

Struggling to break free was useless. I would have to go about another way to escape. Looking around, I saw that I was in a dark warehouse. The only light came from a few dim bulbs mounted in the high ceiling overhead. The air was musty, and towers of crates were scattered throughout the warehouse like tall pillars. Through the filthy windows near the ceiling I could see that it was still dark outside, but the faint light of the sunrise was on its way toward the horizon.

My mind quickly went to work to assess the difficult situation I was now in. Where was Negaduck? This was surely his doing, and he couldn't have been far. Did I have any tools that could benefit an escape? Surely the villain had taken my gun, but had he searched me and relinquished me of anything else?

A sharp, screeching noise from behind me interrupted my thoughts. I turned my head as far as I could to glance over my shoulder. Negaduck was standing at a sort of workman's bench, sharpening a large dagger-like knife on a whirring grindwheel. A moment went by, and I wondered if he even realized that I had awakened. Then he shut off the grindwheel and examined the sharp, flawless weapon in his hands.

"Well, well. It's about time you woke up," he growled deeply with his back to me. "All the waiting was beginning to bore me."

"Believe me, I didn't intend to take a nap," I fired back. But even though I was keeping up a cynical appearance, it was quite the opposite of what I was really feeling. Anxious. I did not know how to prepare myself for what would happen next. I did not know what was going through Negaduck's mind at that moment. Would he try to kill me in haste? Did he have other plans he had been concocting for years? I didn't know what to expect.

He remained quiet from where he stood from far behind me. The silence was quickly beginning to unnerve me. Every muscle in my body tensed when I heard his footsteps approaching. Seconds later, he calmly came up alongside me. He pushed a nearby crate a few feet in front of me and sat down on top of it to stare directly at me. I could see the pure hatred in his blue eyes that had once been filled with innocence. They were unrecognizable behind the black mask, and it sent a shiver up my spine. I could see no trace of my son left in those eyes.

"How did you get here?" I finally asked him.

"You're in no position to be asking questions!" he quickly barked back. "But since I already know how you managed to arrive here years ago, I can grace you with an answer. I've recently discovered a portal that transports between the two parallel universes. That's how I got here."

More silence. I did whatever I could to avert my eyes toward the ceiling, to the side, anywhere but those spiteful eyes that bore into my tainted soul. And this did not go unnoticed by Negaduck. He smirked and began to pick at his nails with the glinting knife in his hand.

"So, what's it been? Twelve, thirteen years?" he asked as if we were two old friends reuniting after many years.

"Thirteen," I clarified. I had never stopped counting the years. "That would make you twenty-two?"

"Twenty-three."

Now it was my turn to smirk and I managed to look at his face. "You're not wasting any time getting on the criminal bandwagon, are you, boy?"

Negaduck's eyes narrowed resentfully. "That may be true, but I am quickly on the rise to power. While you've been hiding here in this disgustingly perfect universe, I've been in the process of taking control of our homeworld, which has since been named 'The Negaverse.'"

"The Negaverse?" I repeated with a raise of my brows, and I gave an amused chuckle. "A little pompous, don't you think? The citizens won't stand for that very long."

"Oh no?" he countered. When he continued, there was a smug tone in his voice. "On the contrary, old man. I now run that city with an iron fist. I'm referred to as 'Lord Negaduck!' Everyone is terrified of me, and I shape the society in whichever way I choose. It's become my own personal playground. No one dares object to what I say or do, not even your precious SHUSH." He leaned forward and gave me a proud grin. "I rule our hometown, and there's nothing anyone can do about it."

"So why are you here?" I challenged. "If everything was so 'perfect' in the 'Negaverse,' then why leave it behind to come here? What's your reason?"

"The same as yours," Negaduck said as if the answer were painfully obvious. "I was getting bored and needed a challenge. That's why you came here."

"But I'm not the one taking hostages and threatening to blow up City Hall," I sneered, trying to uncomfortably shift my arms beneath the tight ropes. "I'm not the criminal, Drake."

Negaduck's stare went ice-cold--they sent another shiver down my spine. There was an eerie calmness in them, but they were filled with a sense of knowing. And the glimmer of hate was growing stronger.

"Don't be such a hypocrite," he scoffed in his growly voice that matched what mine had become over my years of bitterness and wickedness. "You're no saint either, old man. You're far from it," Negaduck continued to lecture as he stood to his feet. He began to circle me intently, staring down at me in my captured state. We were both feeling deja vu from thirteen years ago, but as irony would have it, our roles were switched. Now I was the helpless one and he was in control. "You had everything that anyone could ever want. Success, money, a family. The perfect life, right? You never knew what hardships were like. You took one blow to your ego, and instead of moving on, you wallowed in your own self misery and destroyed everything. You destroyed your family, you destroyed your life, and you destroyed MINE!" he snarled as he forcefully hit the back of the chair to which I was tied. It even made me jump, surprised at the fury I felt from him.

I regained my calmness and glowered defiantly at the mask mallard as he stepped around to stand in front of me. "Don't be preposterous. I didn't force you to choose this path."

"You were enough of an influence," Negaduck asserted accusingly. "I was forced to grow up in a shit-hole of an orphanage where I was pummeled and harassed until I ran away when I was seventeen. Because of you, my life had been a living hell. I was filled with anger and a thirst for revenge against everyone who had wronged me. I was a victim to you, and I was a victim to everyone else. But I wasn't going to stand it any longer! I left that dump and began my own life of crime!" He took the knife in his hand and violently hurled it at the wall where he had pinned a newspaper photograph of me. The knife pierced my photograph right between the eyes, and he grinned proudly at me. "And I'm damn good at it!"

"So that's how you justify the hardships you've had in life? By tormenting others?"

Negaduck smiled deviously and leaned toward me so that there was only a foot of space separating our glares. "Hey, you know the saying: 'Do unto others before they do unto me.' Isn't that the philosophy you live by?"

I didn't answer him, because I knew he was right. I kept my jaw locked and my glare firm. When I didn't respond, his smile fell into an a dark scowl. Then he drew his arm across his front and struck me hard in the side of my face with the back of his hand. The force made the chair teeter, threatening to overturn with me tied to it. I grunted loudly as the stinging sensation immediately covered my face and I hung my head for a moment to rid myself of the dizziness.

And I heard Negaduck sneer with disdain. "How does it feel to have the tables turned?"

I only hissed through my teeth in return. Now I was at his mercy and anything I had to say would fall on deaf ears. When I lifted my head, I saw him loading bullets into the carousel of a pistol. I stopped breathing as he locked his eyes with mine. His dark blue irises were merciless, cold, and filled with a hard hatred that had been saved over the years for this moment--for my demise. And at that point, I felt the slightest ounce of fear toward him. Toward my son.

"I hate you for all you've done to me. And now you're really gonna wish you had made sure I was dead that night," Negaduck growled. Then, with a purely evil smile appearing on his bill, he cocked back the hammer of the pistol, raised it to aim directly between my eyes...

"I am the terror that flaps in the night!"

Both of us jumped in alarm, but Negaduck was obviously more upset. "Ohhh, not him again!" he snarled. "Not now!"

"I am the pitbull that bites the ankle of crime!" the hero's voice continued. The cloud of blue smoke appeared again, just like at City Hall, and it dissolved to reveal the purple suited mallard. "I am Darkwiiiing Duck!"

Negaduck roared furiously, enraged that his moment of triumph had been put on hold. He removed his aim from my head, but only so he could redirect it toward his identical double and pull the trigger repeatedly in a blind fury. I watched with surprise as Darkwing effortlessly back flipped several times, dodging each bullet with flare until Negaduck's pistol began to click rather than fire. The chamber was out of bullets.

Darkwing landed on his feet and folded his arms across his chest with a smug smile while Negaduck examined his empty revolver. "Aww, is the big bad villain all out of bullets?" the hero taunted, which only made the villain more angry. Negaduck glowered and hurled the empty gun at Darkwing, which hit him hard in the side of the head.

"Ouchie..." Darkwing groaned and swayed a few times before collapsing to the ground in a head. I could help but pathetically roll my eyes.

Negaduck scoffed bitterly and approached where Darkwing had fallen. I took advantage of the distraction and began to twist and turn him wrists in every direction. SHUSH had taught me well in methods of escape. All I needed was an unhindered moment with my son's vengeance focused elsewhere. Negaduck stopped and stared down at Darkwing's unmoving body. The blow to the head had knocked him out cold. Or so he thought. He even gave Darkwing a hard kick to the ribs and received no response. A low chuckle from him gradually ascended into a maniacal laugh. "Some hero! His career is over before it even began! Ahahahahaha!--ACK!"

He choked on his laugh when Darkwing swiftly knocked his feet out from under him. Negaduck fell hard onto his back and Darkwing wasted no time in leaping onto his enemy. The two of them tumbled across the floor, both try to gain the upper hand over the other, I continued to try to free myself. My patience was wearing thin, but the ropes were slowly stretching and becoming loose. The ropes were beginning to sting, leaving harsh ropeburn behind on my wrists. But finally, I succeeded in pulling one wrist free. I looked up to be sure that Negaduck had not seen. He was still struggling with Darkwing, whom he had in a headlock and mercilessly trying to strangle. And in light of his recent attempt to kill me, my paternal instincts toward my son had disappeared. I felt no drive to rush forward and aid him, but I couldn't bring myself to assist Darkwing in the capture. Instead, I pulled my other wrist free, got to my feet, and silently slunk away into the shadows.

I hid myself behind one of the towers of crates and peered around its corner to watch the conclusion between the hero and the villain. Negaduck was gagging and still fighting to pull himself free from Darkwing's tight grasp.

"Give it up, evil-doer!" Darkwing boomed heroically. "There's no escaping from Darkwing Duck!"

Negaduck's eyes were bulging out of their sockets, but he wouldn't give in so easily. With all his might, he twisted himself around and thrust his knee directly into Darkwing's groin. The purple-clad mallard gasped and instantly let go of his adversary so that he would fall to his knees in a whimper.

"Of course, I could be mistaken..." he wheezed painfully.

Negaduck spun around in the direction where I had been sitting just moments earlier. But his eyes went wide and his bottom jaw fell open when he saw the empty chair and ropes. His shocked expression quickly turned to one of rage, and to this day I swear I saw blood in his eyes.

"No!" Negaduck howled furiously and threw his trembling fists into the air.

The sound of wailing sirens interrupted his fit and I heard the police cars screeching to a stop outside of the warehouse. Darkwing, being the newest vigilante, had mysteriously vanished to escape dealing with the official authorities. And while I was still hidden inside of the warehouse, there was no time for Negaduck to seek me out. At any second, a dozen police officers would burst through every door, and Negaduck knew it. He turned around in a circle once, knowing that I was still somewhere inside, watching him.

"This isn't over, old man!" Negaduck shouted into the air, his voice echoing off of the walls and reaching my ears. "One of these days, I will get you! While you hunt me, I'll be hunting you! One night, I'm going to return and bring you to Hell! That's a promise!"

After he had made his promise, Negaduck grabbed the corner of his cape and dramatically swept it across him. In an instant, he disappeared in a cloud of red smoke.

I found myself breathing heavier than I had realized. His departing words were so confident, so strong. I knew that Negaduck would grow to be a powerful crime lord, and he wouldn't rest until he destroyed me. There was nothing holding him back from committing the most heinous crimes--no conscience, no remorse, no compassion. All had been deleted from his psyche over the years; ever since that night thirteen years ago.

A loud 'BANG' jarred me out of my stoic state of mind as the SWAT team kicked in one of the side doors and swarmed inside with their rifles at the ready. I inhaled a deep, calming breath to regain my stature and smoothly ran my fingers through my frazzled feathers on the top of my head. I even made sure to straighten my disshelved jacket and tie before I stepped out from my hiding place to greet them.

"Who goes there!" the commanding SWAT team officer demanded as half a dozen rifles were instantly sighted on me.

I calmly held up my SHUSH badge as I approached.

"Agent Jake Mallard. This crime scene is secured."

One more chapter to go. Please review, and thank you for reading!


	17. The Conclusion

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Finally, after over a year, the conclusion of _The Path of Consequence_! Thank you to all of the loyal readers out there who took the time to review. I really hope you all enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**DISCLAIMER: **Negaduck and Darkwing Duck are ©Disney. Jacob Mallard is ©Amanda Rohrssen. Jake Mallard and the completed story _The Path of Consequence_ is © me, Rachel Faraday.

_**The Conclusion**_

Much has happened since I was introduced to the homicidal alter-ego of my son. In the years following, I remained at SHUSH and upheld my charade as an astounding and successful agent. And just last year, I was promoted to replace Agent Gryzlikoff as Chief Agent. Now I am revered by the entire city of St. Canard for my skills and flawless reputation. The people see me as the perfect federal agent who upholds the law and protects them from evil.

But now you know better.

I continue to impress everyone around me, and I still succeed in hiding my true colors from their naive eyes. My talent to deceive only grows stronger with each passing year. No one would dare believe that Chief Agent Jake Mallard of SHUSH is a murderer, and I intend to keep it that way.

Negaduck continues his reign of terror over St. Canard, and Darkwing Duck has become known as the city's resident vigilante. And although the two identical mallards are eternal enemies, Negaduck has not forgotten his vow to destroy me with his own two hands. And he never will. Every morning when I walk up the front steps of SHUSH, I can feel his eyes on me, watching my every move. I can feel his thirst for vengeance even from a distance. Negaduck wants his revenge, and I know he will stop at nothing to spill my blood.

But as he continues to hunt me, I will be hunting him. Behind the SHUSH shield, I am justified in destroying the mallard menace at all costs. This battle between us will not end until one of us has died at the hands of the other. Negaduck's motivation to kill me is strong, but my skills and experience are stronger, and I will not make it so easy for him to have his vengeance.

When you first began to read my words, you may have found yourself entranced by me. Maybe you even liked me. And even as you've learned of my life experiences and the downfalls associated with them, you may have begun to pity me.

Don't.

Pity is a weapon which I can easily use against you. And I hate it when people feel sorry for me. It disgusts me, because I deserve anything but pity from anyone. I've inflicted too much harm on others to earn any sympathy. I destroyed my family, and I trapped my only son in a life of bloody-thirsty malice and hatred. I traded Ava's freedom for my own personal gain regardless of her confession of true feelings toward me. I intruded on the life of Jacob Mallard, and fueled by own jealousy, I took away from him everything that I once had but lost at my own fault. And even now I am willing to kill my own son before he can kill me.

I do not want your pity.

But don't think of me as a sociopath. Sociopaths have no trace of a conscience and completely lack the ability to express any positive emotion. I am not a sociopath, because despite everything you have read, and despite what you may think, there is something that I've felt for the past twenty years, and I will continue to feel for the rest of my life.

Guilt.

I miss my wife every day, and I wonder what Drake would have become if he'd grown up in a normal, loving family. Instead, I've thrown him into a raging sea of tyranny. I regret the choices I'd made which ultimately led to where I am now. I would give anything to turn back the hands of time and have a second chance at the life I once had. The life which I took for granted and didn't realize how precious it was until it was too late. Thinking of what I lost pains me every day, on occasion to the point of wanting to pull my handgun from its holster and press it against my temple. But then my greed for power and authority keeps me going in the life I have now. I love that feeling, and it keeps my conscience locked away in the dark corner of my mind.

Reconciliation with Negaduck will never happen. I know it, and he knows it. He hates me too much, and I have no compassion left in me. Ava destroyed that and my ability to love years ago. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever again be who I once was all those years ago, or if I will ever feel for another living being again. The outlook is a grim one. Perhaps that is one thing that Negaduck and I have in common.

Well, there you have it. That is the story of Jake Mallard and how he sired the merciless public enemy. But it is far from over.

The city continues to admire me. Men wish to be me, and women desire to be _with_ me. And while I've gained the respect and confidence of nearly every citizen, I will still have my few enemies. Old enemies. Negaduck is only one of them. I had not seen the last of Jacob Mallard, and I would soon see Ava Moore again as well. But I will acquire my allies as well. Darkwing Duck will fall victim to my deceit and begin to look up to me as the father figure who he believed had abandoned him many years ago. And I would mold his mind just like everyone else. A young sorceress will also be preyed upon through my charm for the sole purpose of having her powers to use against my enemies. My enemies will align themselves with one another; they will join forces to fight against me and my own allies. I will turn father against son and lie to the innocent whom admires me. And I will do it without feeling an ounce of guilt.

Oh yes, it is far from over. I have just begun to play the violent strings of my symphony.

_"He told the tale so many times_

_About the dream not meant to be_

_In a world of the free._

_He plays with your mind._

_As faith for the future faded fast_

_He grows strong with their displeasure._

_It sets him free._

_Deceiver of hearts_

_Deceiver of fools_

_He rules with fear._

_Deceiver of hearts_

_Deceiver of fools_

_He rules again._

_He feeds off fear, poisons the truth_

_To gain their faith, to lead the way_

_To a world of decay._

_He rules your heart._

_He'll sell your soul to the grave_

_Without a hesitation to make._

_He belongs to the dark."_

_'Deceiver of Fools' _ is ©Within Temtation


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